Shadow Stalker: Advent of a Hero
by ack1308
Summary: An AU where Taylor is in the alleyway instead of Emma. She triggers there, with a different set of powers. In the aftermath, Shadow Stalker has to face the consequences of her inaction, deal with her feelings about this new parahuman, and ask herself searching questions about her own philosophy of life. An exploration of the concept of a Taylor Hebert/Sophia Hess romance.
1. Chapter 1

**Shadow Stalker - Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Disclaimers:

_1) This story is set in the Wormverse, which is owned by Wildbow. Thanks for letting me use it._

_2) I will follow canon as closely as I can. If I find something that canon does not cover, then I will make stuff up. If canon then refutes me, then I will revise. Do not bother me with fanon; corrections require citations._

_3) I welcome criticism of my works, but if you tell me that something is wrong, I also expect an explanation of what is wrong, and a suggestion of how to fix it. Note that I do not promise to follow any given suggestion. Posting a negative review from an anonymous account is a good way to get said review deleted._

* * *

Introduction

* * *

Taylor struggled.

Just moments before, she had been chatting to her father about why it was okay that she hadn't been able to make it to summer camp this year. And then, the side street, the dumpster, the van blocking the street.

"Hold on," he'd said grimly, and rammed his foot to the floorboards. The old engine had roared gamely; the truck leaped forward at the barrier ahead. But then there came a lurch as both front tyres burst; the truck began to swerve. Danny fought with the wheel for a split second, then the back tyres went as well.

_Spike strip_, Taylor had thought fleetingly.

The truck had gone entirely out of control then, the tyres mushy on the rough asphalt. The swerve continued inexorably, Danny still fighting with the wheel, stamping on the brakes. Neither action seemed to do much good.

The truck had rammed into a brick wall; the impact was tremendous. The engine stalled. Danny slumped forward over the wheel, stunned. Taylor had hit her head, but she was still mostly aware of what was going on.

The truck door had been wrenched open, and hands grabbed at Taylor. She was dragged from the vehicle, unable to resist, unable to think.

* * *

"Fuck," said one of the guys. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

She struggled, uselessly.

Rough hands pulled at her clothing, reached inside, mauled at her. She screamed.

"Well, it's apparently a girl," grinned one of the gang members, a girl with green eyeshadow.

"Taylor!" she heard her father call. _"Taylor!"_

She was forced to her knees. "You're on our turf, bitch," growled the one-eyed gang member holding her. "Pay toll."

"Toll?" she croaked.

"A little sucky, a little fucky," sneered the guy. The girl beside him gave him a shove. "Oh yeah, Yan wants a good eating out as well."

"You service us all," said Yan, licking her lips, "you go on your way."

"No," mumbled Taylor. "Please, no."

* * *

At that moment, she saw the cloaked figure, crouching on the roof of the truck. Her eyes met those of the girl behind the metal hockey mask. _Help me_, she tried to say, but the words would not come.

She heard her father's voice again. It seemed very far away. She was forced to all fours. The one-eyed guy was behind her, pulling her pants off her hips.

_Oh god oh god oh god_

The world went away.

* * *

Taylor didn't know where she was. It was dark; distant points of light were all she could see. And then two great creatures swam into view, trailing spicules of some sort of material behind them. One such shard hove into view, heading straight at her.

It struck her, pierced to her core.

She didn't even have time to wonder why she wasn't breathing.

* * *

The world came back. The cloaked figure seemed to be slumped, unmoving, on top of the truck cab. She felt her panties being pulled off her hips.

_"No!"_

She struggled against the arms holding her down. Wrenched free. Shoved one of them. He went backward, falling and skidding on the asphalt. She came to her feet, wrenching her pants up into place again. The one-eyed man grabbed her by the arms; she spun around, breaking his grip, then punched him. He went over backward, blood flying from his nose. The girl moved fast toward her, a slim blade in her hand.

Taylor had been acting on instinct up till now; she tried to jump back, didn't move fast enough. A flash of light on steel, the edge raking across her belly, cutting her shirt. A sharp pain, blood staining her shirt.

She gasped, put her arm across the wound. The girl snarled in triumph. Taylor lurched forward, punched her with her free hand; it felt like a feather-blow. The girl sailed away from her fist, clearing the truck and smashing into the brick wall beyond. She fell out of sight, leaving a bloodstain on the wall.

Gradually, her vision cleared. She looked around. The cloaked figure was looking up from the last of the gang members, slumped on the ground. Danny was climbing dazedly from the truck.

Her stomach hurt. She moved her arm gingerly; nothing seemed to spill out. The cut stung like fire, but she thought it was only superficial. Hoped it was.

The cloaked girl stepped toward her. "That was fucking _awesome!"_ she enthused.

Taylor stared at her. "Why ...". She swallowed, and tried again. "Why didn't you help me?"

* * *

Shadow Stalker didn't speak for a moment. The girl was taller than her, and skinnier. Long, long legs. Big round glasses, huge tragic eyes behind them. She felt ... something. A stirring. She didn't know what it was.

The girl took another step toward her, arm pressed against the superficial wound in her stomach. It wasn't bad; Sophia could tell from the way she moved. No impairment.

"Well?" the girl demanded. "That bastard was about to _rape_ me. And you did nothing."

* * *

Sophia grinned behind her mask, shrugged a little. She had her philosophy, but all of a sudden, looking into that serious long face, she felt a lot less sure of its validity.

"I ... wanted to see who you were?" she ventured.

* * *

Taylor stared.

"You fucking _what?"_she asked.

The dark-cloaked figure, shorter than her, repeated her words. "I wanted to see who you were."

Taylor shook her head. "Oh, you have to be fucking _kidding,"_ she growled. She reached out with her free hand and grabbed the cloaked figure around the neck.

"What the fuck does that even _mean?"_ she shouted.

* * *

Sophia was startled when the girl grabbed her by the throat. She was strong – she'd just _punched_ that girl over the truck – but strength meant nothing when you could just ghost away from your problems.

She went to shadow form. _Easy as pie._

Only, she couldn't move. Was held in place. The girl still had a grip around her throat.

She didn't have to breathe, but …

_How the fuck is she holding me?_

And then she felt pressure. Actual. Pressure. _This is _**_impossible_**_. Shit, I'm in shadow form and she's _**_squeezing _**_my _**_throat_**_!_

* * *

When the cloaked girl went a little fuzzy around the edges, Taylor was mildly startled, but she still had hold of her. She squeezed a little, experimentally. _Yeah, still got her._

"I can squeeze harder," she growled. "Stop doing whatever you're doing, and _answer my fucking question."_

* * *

Sophia reverted to human form.

"How are you doing this?" she husked.

"Answer my question first," the girl snapped. "What does that even mean, you wanted to see who I was?"

"Uh, it's about living and dying, survivor and loser. Predator and prey," Sophia said quickly, working to get the words past the grip on her throat. The girl loosened up slightly – _she's got me helpless with only one fucking hand!_ – and Sophia found she could speak more easily.

* * *

"Make sense sometime soon," said Taylor. Her voice was dead level; she didn't have to articulate the 'or else'. She saw Danny standing dazedly, watching her. There was blood on his forehead.

"Uh, if you fight back, you're a survivor. If you don't, you die. I wanted to see which one you were," said the girl rapidly.

Taylor lifted her arm away from the gash in her stomach. "I fought back and I got _this!"_ she screamed. "I could have _died!_Does that look like the act of a survivor to _you?"_

She pushed the costumed girl away from her; sending her sprawling. Turning, Taylor stumbled toward her father; he met her halfway.

"Taylor, oh my god, are you okay?" he gasped.

"My stomach hurts," she said, and collapsed.

* * *

Daniel Hebert carried his unconscious daughter three blocks until he found a working pay-phone, and called the police. When they arrived, he directed them to the site of the attack. All of the gang members were gone, but the truck was still there, with burst tyres.

Danny and Taylor were taken to the hospital, where both were treated for head trauma and bruising. Taylor was also treated for a shallow knife-wound across her stomach, not deep enough to be serious.

A shadowy figure paced them all the way, on the rooftops.

* * *

Two weeks later, feeling much recovered, Taylor went back. She carried pepper spray and a knife under her coat, but she had a feeling she would not need either.

She looked over the site where the attack had taken place. The truck had been towed away, there were no longer any unconscious bodies, but the place was still the same. She shivered.

_I nearly got raped here. I nearly _**_died _**_here._

_What the hell am I doing, coming back?_

"You were right."

She whirled. The voice was quiet, the figure almost invisible, in a dark corner of the alley.

"Who are you? What do you want?" demanded Taylor.

"I want to apologise," said the girl, stepping out of the shadow. "You were right. I was being an idiot. I'm … I'm sorry."

Taylor got the impression this girl did not say those words very often. But why was she saying them, to Taylor, now …

Memory clicked into place. Same body type, same place. "You're _her_!" she snapped.

The girl nodded. "Yeah," she said. "It's me. I'm her." She took her hands out of her jacket and walked up to Taylor. "So hit me. Kick me. Do whatever you want. I won't stop you."

Taylor stared at her. She was dark-skinned, and so pretty, almost cute. And her large brown eyes looked at Taylor's so sadly.

"But … why?" she asked.

The girl stared her in the eye. "Because I would have let that happen to you. Because I thought I was doing the right thing. Because I was being a moron."

Taylor slapped her. She didn't use more than one or two levels of amp, so the slap only spun the girl around; it didn't break her neck or send her flying.

* * *

Sophia went to one knee, holding her hand over her cheek. _Christ,_ she thought. _That nearly took my head off. And I think she was holding back._

And then she felt hands helping her up. "Come on," said the girl. "Get up. I'm over it now."

Through watering eyes, she stared at the girl. Accepted the hand up.

"I'm Sophia," she said.

"Actually," said the other girl, "let's start again." She held out her hand. "Hi, Sophia, I'm Taylor. How are you doing?"

Sophia shook it, head still spinning. "Fine. I'm pleased to meet you, Taylor."

Taylor smiled. "So, wanna get something to eat?"

Sophia smiled back. "Love to."

* * *

The two girls sat outside the street cafe, eyeing each other curiously. Neither spoke until the food had arrived, and not for a little time after that.

"Okay, I'll bite," said Taylor at last, after chewing and swallowing a calamari ring. "Why?"

Sophia looked at her while she took a drink from her shake. "Why what?" she asked.

Taylor bit into another calamari ring. "Why the whole predator/prey mindset? We're human beings, not animals. Surely to God we've evolved past that bullshit."

Sophia very nearly snorted her drink out through her nose. As it was, she coughed and choked, and Taylor had to slap her on the back.

"Sorry," she said eventually, her eyes streaming. "But you just invoked religion and evolution in the same breath. It just sounded funny, is all."

Taylor grinned, her mouth wide, her eyes large behind the round glasses. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Sophia barely heard her. She could hardly take her eyes off of Taylor's face for a moment. It was like she was seeing the taller girl for the first time, as if the lines and planes of her face had just fallen into an ideal pattern, formed some perfect image, matching a template buried deep within Sophia's subconscious.

* * *

"Sophia?"

She blinked and shook her head. Taylor was looking at her oddly.

"Sorry," said Sophia. "I think I zoned out there for a minute."

"Well, yeah," Taylor agreed. "You feeling okay? I _did_ hit you a bit hard, there."

Sophia nodded, cautiously feeling the side of her face. She tasted blood from the inner side of her cheek, where her teeth had cut it. It felt like there was some swelling, but it wasn't going to be too bad.

"Nah, I'm good," she said. "But I'm not going to piss you off again in a hurry. You hit like a fucking freight train."

Taylor grimaced. "Sorry. I only meant to use normal strength. An extra level of amp just … crept in there." She picked up her sandwich, took a bite.

"Amp?" asked Sophia. "What's that?"

"It's what I call ... what I can do," confessed Taylor. "It's probably a stupid name. There's probably something better I can call it, but I just call it that."

"But why 'amp'? What does it mean?"

"Ah," said Taylor. "It's short for 'amplitude' or 'amplification'. When I need more ... well, strength, or durability, basically, I just amp myself up. I get stronger, tougher, denser." She frowned. "But it's weird. I don't get any heavier."

"Okay, I get that," said Sophia, taking a bite of her burger. "Basic Brute power. But how the hell can you still grab me when I'm in shadow form?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "Shadow form?"

Sophia stared at her. "When I go all ghosty? I can walk through walls? Nothing can touch me, except electricity, while I'm in that form. But what you do isn't electricity. It's like ... I haven't changed form at all. Like you're _ignoring_ the fact that I've changed."

"Huh," said Taylor. "I didn't know. All I saw was you sort of went fuzzy around the edges."

Sophia blinked. "So I don't even look ghostly to you?"

"Not really," said Taylor. "Should you?"

Sophia nodded. "It's what everyone else says."

Taylor shrugged. "Then I have no idea."

They chatted for a while longer, then parted ways, each heading back home. Sophia gave Taylor her mobile number; Taylor gave Sophia her home number.

* * *

Sophia called up a week later.

Danny answered the phone. "Hebert household, Danny speaking."

_"Hi, this is Sophia. Is Taylor there, please?"_

"Uh, sure. Hold on a moment."

He put the phone down, went upstairs. "Taylor?" he said, knocking on her bedroom door. "Phone call for you. Someone called Sophia?"

She looked up from the book she was reading. "Sophia?" It took a few seconds to place the name. "Wow, really?" She rolled off the bed and trotted downstairs.

* * *

Sophia sat on the rooftop with her mobile to her ear. She heard the phone being picked up. _"Hello?"_ came Taylor's voice. _"Sophia?"_

"Yeah," said Sophia. "It's me. How've you been?"

_"Oh, so-so. I keep getting accosted in dark alleys by girls in weird costumes."_

"Oh, ha ha," said Sophia. "It was only the once, it was broad daylight, and I wasn't in costume."

She could hear the grin in Taylor's voice. _"Yeah, but it sounded good. So what's up?"_

"Oh, nothing much," she said, trying to sound casual. "I'm out on patrol right now. I was thinking, once I finish up here, we could go out, get a bite to eat?"

* * *

"Actually," said Taylor, "I've got a better idea. How about you drop around? We can always set an extra place for dinner."

_"Um, sure,"_ said Sophia. _"That'd be great. If your dad's okay with it, I mean."_

"Wait one," said Taylor. Holding the phone to her chest, she called out to Danny. "Dad, is it okay if Sophia comes over tonight?"

"Remind me," he said. "Who's this Sophia? One of Emma's friends?"

"No," she replied. She suddenly realised that she hadn't told him about the meeting with Sophia. "She's someone I met awhile ago. She's nice."

_Well, she's trying hard to be nice,_she told herself. _Making the effort._

Much later, she would wonder why she never asked herself why, at the time.

* * *

_"Sure, Dad says it's okay,"_ Sophia heard Taylor say. _"Any time between seven and eight is good."_

She felt her heart unaccountably leap in her chest. "Sure," she said, trying to maintain the casual attitude. "I'll be there."

She was about to continue the conversation, but then she heard a cry of distress. "Whoops, gotta go. See you then."

_"Later,"_ said Taylor, but Sophia was already hanging up. She leaped across the rooftops in the direction of the call.

* * *

Taylor hung up the phone and looked around at her father. "Thanks, Dad," she said. "I think she's kinda lonely, doesn't have many friends."

"What, like you?" grinned Danny, ruffling her hair.

She grinned back and ducked her head. "Well, if I make friends with all the kids who don't have friends of their own," she pointed out, "we'll all have friends."

"Your point is valid," he said. "So, an extra place for dinner, huh? Did she say what time she'd be turning up?"

Taylor shrugged. "When she could?" she hazarded.

"Thank you, Captain Precise," Danny retorted. "Okay, we'll put hers in the oven until she gets here."

She smiled and hugged him. "Thanks, Dad," she said.

He hugged her back; they were doing this more often, these days. "Anytime, kiddo," he said.

She went to the sofa, and continued to read her book. He started dinner.

* * *

Three teenagers wearing gang colours – Merchants, by the look – had cornered a woman with a baby in a stroller and a teenage boy in an alleyway. They closed in, tossing knives from hand to hand and indulging in the usual unimaginative gang trash talk. The baby in the stroller bawled, while the other two shrank back against the wall.

_Come on,_ thought Sophia, _fight back. Show you're survivors, not losers._

But then she recalled Taylor's words of a week ago. _We're human beings, not animals. Surely to God we've evolved past that bullshit._

And she leaped, turning to shadow in midair as she fell toward the unsuspecting Merchants below.

* * *

"So where are you going to high school at the end of the break, Sophia?" asked Danny.

"Not sure," admitted Sophia. "Mom would like to see me in Arcadia, but it's looking more like Winslow, given the money situation."

_"I'm_ going to Winslow," said Taylor. "I'm sure it's not all that bad."

"You _do_ know that the ABB and Empire Eighty-Eight recruit from Winslow, right?" asked Sophia.

"Yeah," said Taylor airily, "but that's okay. I'm not Chinese, and I don't care about skin colour. Plus, I like to keep my head down anyway."

"What she's _saying,"_ said Danny dryly, "is that her friends are going to Winslow, and so even though her grades are good enough to get her into Arcadia, she's choosing to go to Winslow anyway."

"Well, if it's good enough for you, it's good enough for me," replied Sophia with a grin.

* * *

Later that evening, they stood outside the house, as Sophia prepared to leave.

"Your dad's pretty cool," Sophia commented.

"He is," agreed Taylor.

"You haven't told him about me, have you?" Sophia noted.

Taylor shook her head. "That's between you and him. Not my business."

Sophia nodded. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Actually, you know," said Taylor. "If you joined the Wards, they'd probably sponsor you into Arcadia."

Sophia stopped and thought about that.

"…nah," she said at last. "If you can hack Winslow, I can hack Winslow."

Taylor grinned, her teeth white in the darkness. "Take care, Soph." She hugged the shorter girl.

Sophia was more than a little surprised by the hug. But the hug was nice. Really nice. It had been a long time since she had been hugged by anyone other than her mother. It was a novel sensation. Cautiously, she hugged Taylor back. "You too, Taylor," she said.

And then she was gone, a shadow on the wind.

* * *

Six days later, the phone in the Hebert household rang, at about a quarter past eleven in the evening.

Danny considered letting it ring, then cursed himself even as he stumbled out of bed and made his way downstairs. He answered the phone in a fairly bad temper.

"Danny Hebert here. This had better be important."

_"Mr Hebert,"_ he heard. _"Please … help. It's … it's Sophia."_

Danny blinked, his temper draining away. "Sophia … ah, you came over for dinner? What's the matter? Why are you calling us?"

_"I'm hurt,"_ came the laboured answer. "_Can you come get me? Taylor can explain on the way."_

* * *

Still in her flannel pyjamas, Taylor nursed the large first-aid box as the truck bounced and rattled toward the destination. Danny peered at the road ahead with fierce concentration, but was able to somehow carry on the conversation as he did so.

"So you're saying that she's the same one who stood by and let us be attacked last month," he said. "Let you almost get cut open."

Taylor sighed. "She's changed, Dad," she said. "She told me she's really, really sorry."

"Well, she seemed nice enough when she came over for dinner," allowed Danny. "And she sounded pretty desperate over the phone."

Taylor nodded. "She's really independent. Doesn't want to join the Wards. It must have cost her a lot to call for help like this."

* * *

Danny pulled the truck over and they got out. Taylor's slippers were inadequate for the rough ground, so she tossed them back into the truck.

He frowned. "There's broken glass and worse around here, kiddo," he warned.

She nodded. "I'll just amp up a bit, then," she said. There was no visible change, but her movements became subtly more ponderous, more stately.

* * *

They found Shadow Stalker backed into a corner, down on one knee, a blood-stained cloth bound around one leg. She had both crossbows out, threatening a semi-circle of gang members who were slowly advancing on her.

"Stay back, Dad," said Taylor quietly. She gathered herself and amped up as hard as she could, then leaped.

It seemed like it only took a tap of her foot on the ground and she floated away like a feather. Danny looked down at the four-inch depressions in the asphalt that she'd left behind.

* * *

Sophia was starting to think she'd really have to shoot someone when the brightly-clad form, dressed in flannel pyjamas of all things, dropped out of the sky and landed three paces in front of her. The impact drove dust upward all around, and sent cracks radiating outward through the asphalt.

Taylor grinned at Sophia, tipped her a wink, then turned to the gang members. Keeping her face down so that the single overhead streetlight put her features in shadow. "Okay," she said. "Who's first?"

One of the gang members – Merchants, Taylor thought – rushed forward, swinging a pry-bar. Taylor put her hand up, almost in slow motion, and caught it. Despite the fact that she was about half his size, it stopped, ringing with the impact, at her palm. Gently, she deprived him of it, and tied it in a knot, dropping it to the ground thereafter.

Half the Merchants started moving away at this point. Flannel pyjamas or not, cute round-lensed glasses or not, someone who could jump or fly like that, and could bend steel in their bare hands, was not worth messing with.

One of the remainder pulled a pistol. Taylor saw it, and shoved on all the amp she could manage. As he fired, she held up her hand in a desperate warding gesture.

By sheer fluke, she felt the stinging impact on her palm, and closed her hand.

When she opened it, there was a round red mark in the middle of her palm, and the flattened bullet lay beside it.

She took the bullet, held it up, and crushed it flat between finger and thumb. Then she took a step forward; her foot seemed to come down lightly, but it crushed its way through an inch of asphalt and the reverberations of the impact seemed to echo for several seconds.

"Next," she grated, the word taking a second or so to say.

They bolted.

* * *

Taylor let the amps fall away; the ringing in her ears stopped, and she felt her heart speed back up to its normal rhythm. The feeling of compression, of sheer inertia, also fell away, until she was moving almost normally.

"Okay," she said to Shadow Stalker, "let's have a look at that leg."

Sophia was staring at her.

"What?" asked Taylor, as Danny hurried forward with the first-aid kit.

"You _caught_ a _bullet,"_ said Sophia. "How the fuck did you do _that?"_

"Uh, put my hand in the way?" said Taylor. "Stung like a bitch, though."

"Uh, girls?" said Danny. "As the only non-powered person here, how about first aid now, power analysis later?"

"Uh, yeah," said Taylor. "Sorry, Dad."

She knelt down in front of Sophia and helped her take the makeshift bandage off.

* * *

Three days later, Sophia sat opposite Taylor at a table in the food court of the Weymouth Mall. Her crutches leaned against her seat.

"So how's the leg going?" asked Taylor.

"Can't wait to get back to kicking ass and taking names," grumped Sophia. She frowned. "How about you? Thought of a name yet?"

Taylor shook her head. "Breaker, maybe. Amp? Something like that. But … I'm not really sure I want to do that."

Sophia grinned. "It would be great to have you out and about with me. Backup is always nice."

* * *

She couldn't stop staring at Taylor. It wasn't just her face. It was her whole attitude. She was … _confident_. In a way that not many people could pull off.

Taylor shook her head. "Could you imagine me in a skintight outfit?"

Sophia could, actually. It formed some of her night-time fantasies.

* * *

Taylor decided to change the subject. "So, I've been meaning to ask. How long _have_ you had your powers?"

"Oh, about eighteen months," said Sophia. She took a drink from her slurpee. "Dad and I were out to see a movie; we were cornered by some Merchants. They wanted to rape me." She shuddered, lowered her head. "Sorry."

Taylor covered Sophia's hand with her own. "It's okay. You fucked up, we got past it, you apologised, I slapped you."

Sophia grinned. "I couldn't eat with that side of my mouth for two days." She didn't move her hand from under Taylor's.

Taylor rolled her eyes. "I _said_ I was sorry."

Sophia grinned and shook her head. "I still don't get it with your powers. How does that shit work, anyway?"

Taylor took a deep breath. "I'm not really sure. All I know is, when I need … more, I can get more. If I'm really angry or really upset, I can overtop what I need, but it doesn't usually undersell."

"Like when you punched that girl," Sophia said. "That was fucking _awesome."_

Taylor shook her head. "I think I might have killed her."

Sophia stared. "She tried to kill _you!"_

Taylor took hold of Sophia's hand. Sophia caught her breath; Taylor didn't seem to notice. "It's not the same, Sophia," she said earnestly. "We shouldn't kill if we have any other option. That's why I just frightened the Merchants off. I didn't need to hurt them; I just needed them gone."

"So, we just let the bad guys go now?"

Taylor shook her head. "No. We need an in-between option. Between 'useless' and 'splat'. My strength tends to scale to my need. So I need to learn not to get angry in a fight."

"Otherwise you might end up putting your fist _through_ someone, gotcha," agreed Sophia.

Taylor shuddered. Sophia squeezed her hand. Taylor looked at her, slightly surprised. Sophia smiled and squeezed her hand again.

"Hey," she said softly. "You're not alone."

"I …" said Taylor. She paused. "When I met you again that first time, I thought I was going to hate you." She squeezed Sophia's hand. "But you're just someone who was trying to make sense of the world the way you saw it."

"And royally fucking it up," agreed Sophia. "But you helped me get my head out of my ass."

Taylor grinned. "But you _did_ take it out of your ass. And I actually think you're kinda cool, now."

Sophia's face darkened with a blush. "Taylor … I …"

Taylor looked at her. "What?"

Sophia couldn't find the words. So she stood, leaning on the table, and kissed Taylor on the lips. Not hard, no tongue, but more than a friendly kiss. Much more.

Taylor's eyes went very wide indeed.

Sophia pulled away, looking at her anxiously. "Taylor …?"

Taylor blinked a few times. "You … you feel _that_ way about me?"

Sophia nodded. "I do. Yes. I have almost since I saw you." She met Taylor's eyes, and her gaze dropped. "But you don't …"

Taylor grabbed her hand and held it tight.

"Sophia," she said firmly. "I like you. I think you're cute as hell. I think I might feel something for you. But I'm not ready for that … not right now. Okay?"

Sophia sat down. She held Taylor's hand tightly. "Still friends?" she asked hopefully. "No weirdness?"

Taylor giggled. "We're _both_ weird," she pointed out. "But yeah, we're good." She brightened. "Oh, hey. My best friend has been out of town on summer break. She gets back tomorrow, I think. I just gotta introduce you guys."

Sophia raised an eyebrow. "'Best' friend, huh?" she said with a grin.

Taylor nodded earnestly. "I've known her since … oh, first grade."

Sophia tilted her head judiciously. "Okay, I'll give you that one. What's her name?"

"Emma," said Taylor with a grin. "Emma Barnes."

* * *

End of Introduction


	2. Chapter 2

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part Two

* * *

"I still think you should join the Wards," argued Taylor as they headed down the street. "What happened the other day, they could have had backup to you in minutes." She stopped and hugged her friend. "I really hate to think of what could have happened to you if we hadn't been able to get to you."

Sophia accepted the hug; she rather enjoyed it, in fact, although the crutches did sort of get in the way. "Oh," she said, "I would have gone shadow if they'd gotten too close."

"So how long can you _maintain_ your shadow form, if they chose to hang around and wait you out?" asked Taylor, as they started off again.

Sophia paused. "I'm … not sure. Never had to hold it more than a few seconds."

Taylor nodded. "Uh huh. And thus, my point is made."

"Okay, _fine_, I was in trouble and I know it," acceded Sophia. "That's _why_ I called you. But _I_ still think you need to have a costume, or at least a mask. So the next time you come to help me out, you're not Flannel Pyjamas Girl."

Taylor giggled. "The look on that guy's face when I tied the bar in a knot," she said.

"Hey, I was pretty damn impressed too," pointed out Sophia. "How high can you go, anyway?"

"What, jumping?" asked Taylor.

Sophia shook her head. "In amps."

Taylor paused. "Um … not sure? Never pushed it as hard as it would go. I just take what I need."

Sophia stared. "So … you can do _more_ than catch bullets?"

Taylor shrugged. "Um, I guess?" She rubbed her forehead. "But seriously. If I miscalculate the level of amp I need, I could end up killing some jerk by sheer accident. And if I underestimate, I could end up dying."

Sophia sighed. "Taylor, you have what every military dreams of getting – dial-a-yield damage. With just a little research, you can adjust your amps to whatever enemy you're fighting."

"Well, that's the other thing," said Taylor. "I actually suck at fighting. I nearly got killed, remember? People don't duck my punches because they think I'm gonna hit like a girl. But once I hit the scene as the girl who can throw telephone poles like javelins –"

"Which would be _awesome_ to see," put in Sophia. "Just saying."

"Until the first time I miss and take out a 747," retorted Taylor. "But after that, people would go, whoops, she can actually do damage, and dodge my wild and ineffectual swings."

"So get training," said Sophia.

"Where from?" asked Taylor. "And another thing. I'm no expert at the whole self-defense thing, but it seems to me that someone of my normal height and strength and weight would need an entirely different fighting style to when I'm amped up enough to lift a truck."

Sophia paused. "I see your point, but I don't see where you're going with this."

"Who do I go to," said Taylor patiently, "to get trained in how to use that strength and inertia effectively? There's not many places that train parahumans."

"Except, you know, the Wards," pointed out Sophia.

"Which _you_ refuse to join," Taylor riposted.

"I will if you will," Sophia shot back.

Taylor paused. "Wait, what?"

"If you join the Wards, so will I," said Sophia slowly.

She had to stop and think about that. _Wow, would I?_

_Yes, I would. If it meant Taylor would be there._

"But you hate the idea of giving up your independence, having to follow rules and regulations," Taylor protested. "You told me that. In detail. I still have the printed booklet you gave me."

Sophia burst out laughing. "I didn't give you any printed booklet."

"You may as well have," grinned Taylor. "You were emphatic enough."

Sophia rolled her eyes. Taylor could be so silly. It was one of the reasons she liked her so much.

"Well, if you won't come out and be my backup," Sophia said, "I'd be happy to be in the Wards if you were there too."

Taylor gave her a long look. "So you still …"

Sophia nodded. "Yeah. Not something I can turn off." She shrugged. "Not something I really _want_ to turn off. It's new. Never felt this way before. I just wish …"

Taylor shook her head. "Sorry. I like you … a lot. A whole lot. But I don't feel comfortable about it, just yet. I still need to think about it." She gave Sophia a beseeching look. "Give me more time?"

Sophia smiled, squeezed her hand. "All the time in the world." She looked around. "So where's this Emma person live?"

Taylor pointed. "That house just over there. The big one."

"Huh," said Sophia. "Big, all right. Rich family?"

Taylor grinned. "Her dad's a divorce attorney."

Sophia rolled her eyes again. "Say no more."

* * *

Emma opened the door to Taylor's knock. "Taylor!" she shouted, and grabbed her friend in a bear-hug. Taylor instinctively amped up so that she would not be knocked over, but not so much that she would turn into a stone statue.

"Hey, Ems," she greeted the redhead, dropping the amps again. "Good to see you too. Wow, you're tanned."

"You should see my tan lines," grinned Emma. "I got this really tiny bikini – who's this?"

She had noticed Sophia for the first time as the dark-skinned girl made her slow progress up the steps.

"Oh, sorry," said Taylor. "Emma, this is Sophia. Emma Barnes, Sophia Hess."

"Hey," said Sophia, reaching the top of the steps. She constructed a smile for Emma. But all she could think was, _She's so damn pretty._

And it was true. Emma had a radiant beauty about her.

Deep within, a primal part of Sophia's subconscious scented _rival_, and went on the alert. She gave Emma a hard stare. _She seemed awfully huggy there._

* * *

Emma blinked. Sophia seemed to be a little hostile toward her. _But I've barely even met her._

"Is it okay if we come in and sit down?" asked Taylor. "It was farther than I remembered from the bus stop, and Sophia's leg still isn't mended."

"Uh, sure," said Emma. "Come in, come in."

* * *

They sat on comfortable armchairs in the living room. Sophia stretched her injured leg out and sighed; it had been really starting to twinge. This armchair was very comfortable. She began to wonder if she'd ever be able to get out of it.

"So, I see you've been making new friends while I've been away," observed Emma cheerfully, bearing in a tray of drinks.

"Something like that," agreed Taylor with a grin. She handed Sophia a drink. "I got in a little bit of trouble, and Sophia was there to help out."

Emma nodded approvingly toward Sophia. "Well, thanks for that. I'd hate for something to happen to Taylor while I wasn't around to keep an eye on her." She nodded to the crutches. "What happened to your leg? Did you get hurt helping Taylor?"

Sophia sipped at her drink. It was some sort of fruit concoction; icy cold, and very nice. "Ah, no," she said. "That happened later. That was when I got in trouble, and Taylor helped me out."

Emma giggled. "Wow, this sounds like the plot of a bad cape sitcom. Mysterious injuries, people making obscure references ...". She leaned forward and grinned at her best friend. "Taylor, you haven't gotten powers, put on a costume and started prowling the streets beating people up, have you?"

* * *

The awkward silence that followed Emma's joke stretched a moment too long, before Taylor burst out laughing. "No, Ems," she said with a grin. "I can promise you that I haven't put on a costume and started going out to beat people up."

Emma looked at her and Sophia. There was a vibe there, an understanding between the two of them. She would suspect some sort of intimate thing, but Taylor wasn't showing the signs of that at all, and she didn't know Sophia enough to tell with her.

But there was _something_. After her mother's death, Taylor had been withdrawn, pulled in on herself. But now ... she was more open, happier, more free with her gestures and her laughter. More _confident._

Emma had wondered if her friend would ever come back to her. It appeared that she had.

"Well, I'm glad you're both okay," she said. "Sophia, thanks for helping Taylor out. I really appreciate it."

* * *

Sophia ducked her head and blushed. She hadn't helped Taylor out, not really. And if Taylor hadn't triggered, if her power hadn't manifested, she would have been horribly injured or dead now, with a knife-slash across her stomach. She was fully aware that her inaction had nearly killed Taylor, and that her actions had not saved her.

And yet Taylor was giving her the credit, and Emma was praising her for it.

She liked the praise, a lot. She just didn't like the feeling that she'd cheated to get it.

She recalled the family group in the alley, two weeks ago. The Merchants had never seen her coming. She had taken down two before the third had a chance to react. He had turned and run. She'd considered shooting him, but a niggling feeling that Taylor wouldn't shoot someone in the back had stayed her hand.

But afterward ...

The mother had hugged her, and the boy had looked at her with hero-worship in his eyes. She wasn't used to that. It made her feel different. Strange.

_I've always been focused on hurting the criminals, not helping people in need._

It was a strange thought. She wasn't used to questioning her own preconceptions; to be fair, few people are. But with Taylor's gentler nature as an example, she was starting to wonder if there wasn't something she might be missing.

It was something she'd have to think about.

* * *

"Thanks," she said out loud. "It wasn't really anything." She took a deep breath, tried to change the subject. "So, you've known Taylor since first grade?"

Emma nodded. "Oh yeah. Dad and Mr Hebert always used to say that Taylor's like another sister to me, and I was like another daughter to him." She grinned at Taylor. "Not that we didn't get in trouble. Remember the time, with the cat ...?"

Taylor fell back in the chair and burst out laughing. "Oh god, that was ... oh god, we got in _so_ much trouble for that."

"Well, come on," said Sophia. "Give with the details. I want to hear this."

* * *

So, in between bursts of laughter, they told her the story. And then Emma told them about her holiday, and the oh-so-handsome pool boy called Jaime, and his _amazing_ abdominal muscles.

"And then Dad comes right up behind him, and says ..." giggled Emma.

"If you value your employment, you will walk away from my daughter _right now,"_ broke in a new voice, from right behind Emma's chair.

Emma squeaked and jumped, and looked around, occasioning more laughter from the other two, who of course had seen the speaker coming. Alan Barnes stood there, heavy-set and red-haired, although his flaming thatch was starting to thin and grey slightly.

"Aw Dad, I was going to make it funnier than that," she protested.

He cleared his throat. "I would have made it more subtle, but I wanted him to be certain of my meaning." Stepping forward, he smiled at Taylor. "It's good to see you, Taylor. How's your dad?"

"He's fine, Mr Barnes," said Taylor happily. "It's good to see you again. Oh, and this is Sophia Hess. She'll be attending Winslow with me and Emma this year."

Alan leaned forward and extended his hand. Sophia shook it. "I'm pleased to meet you, Sophia," he said. "Any friend of Taylor's is a friend of mine."

"Thank you, Mr Barnes," she replied. "You have a nice house."

He preened a little, as will any family man when praised for his ability to provide. "Thanks. I suppose business has been good."

She noticed, with inner amusement, that he did not actually tell her what his business was.

"Well," he added, "I hate to leave you like this, but I have to run. Take care, you three. And it was nice meeting you, Sophia."

* * *

And then he was gone, and Emma turned to Sophia. "So you'll be attending Winslow with us this year, huh?"

"That's right," confirmed Sophia. "I could get into Arcadia on the strength of my athletics, but the money would still be tight, and I don't know anyone there. At least at Winslow, I'll have you two to keep me company."

"Athletics, huh?" asked Taylor. "You never told me you did athletics."

Emma leaned forward and eyed her. "Swimming?" she hazarded.

"Nope," grinned Sophia. She turned to Taylor. "Go on, you guess."

"Track and field," said Taylor promptly, and giggled at the look of disgust on Sophia's face.

"How did you guess?" asked the dark-skinned girl.

"I've seen the way you move, before you hurt your leg," Taylor grinned. "And I have never seen anyone quite so irritated at being on crutches as you can get."

* * *

Taylor and Sophia left a little while after that, amid mutual promises to get back together again, really soon. "I'll be over Saturday, okay?" Taylor called as she left, to an answering wave from Emma.

"Saturday?" asked Sophia, as she and Taylor headed back toward the bus stop.

"Oh, it's a thing we have," Taylor told her cheerfully. "We sleep over at each others' places most nights.". She giggled. "Paint each others' toenails, talk about our cape crushes, stuff like that."

Sophia looked very thoughtful. "Do you think Emma would mind if I came along as well?". The last time she had seen Taylor in her flannel pyjamas, Sophia had been in too much pain to really appreciate how adorably cute she was, but if she had a second chance, she intended to fully appreciate the view.

Taylor frowned. "I thought you patrolled most nights."

Sophia waved a crutch. "Until this leg comes good, I won't be patrolling _anywhere."_

Taylor shrugged and grinned. "Ah yeah, duh. Sure, okay. I can't see her saying no, but I'll check to make sure."

Sophia smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

Taylor helped Sophia on to her bus, then stood waving on the sidewalk as it drove off.

Sophia waved back, then leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. She had a lot to think about.

Ever since she had gotten her powers, she had been fixated on the idea that she had to _earn_ them, by being the biggest, baddest tiger in the jungle. If tigers lived in the jungle. She wasn't sure about that bit. But anyway, it was all about predator and prey. She had shown defiance, she had gotten her powers. She had earned her reprieve from being prey.

_I will never be prey again. I will fight, or I will die._

But with Taylor ... she had fought, and she had nearly still died. Only her newly-gained powers had saved her. And when Sophia expected her to embrace the fight-or-die ethos, Taylor had rejected it, very forcefully and with logic to back up her views. In fact, the scar that she had taken in proving her point would remain with her for the rest of her days.

* * *

Normally, Sophia would have defended her point of view with more dedication; after all, if she wax wrong in Taylor's case, then she had been wrong before. And she really did not want to face that conclusion.

But there was something about Taylor Anne Hebert that derailed Sophia's most carefully planned arguments, even before she was well into them. Taylor had not _wanted_ to fight, not against opponents in superior numbers, armed with better weapons. She had only lashed out in sheer desperation, and had she not manifested powers right at that moment, she would have been killed or worse.

Normally, Sophia would have dismissed the unwillingness to fight under such circumstances as weakness or cowardice. But her newfound insights into herself and her motivations did not allow her such an easy refuge for her ego, not any more.

_She_ was willing to dive into such situations, not because she was braver or stronger or more fit to live, but because her powerset gave her a huge advantage over most opponents in a melee situation. Basically, she cheated. Which led to a very troubling question.

Was it really her right to decide the fitness of others if she only won her fights by cheating?

_Before I met Taylor, I would not have been asking myself these questions._

_Before I met Taylor, I would not have even _**_considered _**_asking myself these questions._

_What does this say about the type of person I am?_

No matter how she worded that question, she didn't like the answer.

* * *

"Barnes household, Emma speaking."

_"Hey, Ems."_

"Oh hey, Taylor. What's up?"

_"Just wanted to ask you about something. You know the sleepover on Saturday?"_

"Yeah," replied Emma. "What about it?"

_"Would it be okay if Sophia came over as well?"_

Emma hesitated. "Uh, Taylor, are you sure that's such a great idea? I don't think she likes me very much."

Taylor chuckled over the phone. _"Oh, she's just a bit prickly, is all. She's really nice once you get to know her."_

"Well," said Emma dubiously, "I guess. But only because you say it'll be okay."

_"Sure,"_Taylor promised her. _"She'll be good."_

"Actually, while I've got you on the line," said Emma, "can I ask you something?"

_"Go ahead,"_ Taylor invited.

Emma hesitated for a moment. This was Taylor, her oldest friend. She didn't want to sound like she was prying, or worst, disapproving.

"Um … you and Sophia … is there something going on between the two of you?" she asked at last.

Taylor paused. _"What do you mean, going on?"_

Emma tried to keep her voice level and calm and not get flustered. "It's just that while you were here, I kept getting this vibe between you, like there was something you knew, a really big secret, that I didn't know." She paused. "Are you and Sophia ... _seeing_ each other?"

_"What, like in a relationship?"_ laughed Taylor, the mirth unforced enough for Emma to believe it was genuine. _"No, we're not."_ She paused. _"Okay, I didn't tell you this, all right?"_

"Okay," said Emma immediately.

_"Sophia has ... a kind of crush on me. A big one. A huge one. And I kind of like her. But I'm still getting my head around this whole idea of being in a relationship. I mean, the closest I've ever been to being in a relationship is being friends with you."_

"Oh," said Emma, flattered that Taylor was confiding this to her, and dazed by the implications. "Wow. So ... it's like, she's asked you to be her girlfriend, and you haven't said yes yet?"

A long pause. _"I haven't said no yet either,"_ Taylor said quietly. _"I just want to make sure it's what I want. Because I don't want to hurt her."_

"Oh wow, oh wow," said Emma, her head spinning just a little. This made her tale of the flirtation with Jaime of the amazing abdominals seem very small potatoes indeed. "So have you two ... _done_ anything yet?"

Taylor chuckled. _"Not really. We've been to eat a few times. And she's eaten at my place once. And she kissed me once. That's when I found out how she felt about me."_

"A bit of a shock, huh?" chuckled Emma in her turn.

_"Just a bit, yeah,"_ agreed Taylor. _"But it explained why she was so anxious to be my friend, and not to upset me or anything."_

Emma paused for a moment. "So ... what was it like, kissing a girl?" she asked archly.

Taylor also paused. _"It was ... nice. I can't compare it to kissing boys, because you know I've never had a boyfriend. But yeah ... after she kissed me, I could have said no right away, and I didn't."_

Emma chuckled. "Well, that certainly explains the thing I felt between you two. And why she was a bit rude to me."

_"Oh?"_ said Taylor. _"Why?"_

Emma laughed. "She thought I might be interested in you too, and didn't want me butting in between you and her."

_"Oh my god,"_ said Taylor. _"Oh my god. She totally must have thought that, the way we grabbed each other."_ She started laughing helplessly. _"I'm gonna have to tell her you're not interested in me."_ A wicked tone crept into her voice. _"If you were, you've had plenty of chances to show it."_

Emma giggled. "You're not wrong, there. No, your virtue is safe from me. I like boys too much. Let me tell you, if Dad had walked around the corner one minute later, Jaime would have gotten a bit more than a feel of my butt."

_"Emma!"_ gasped Taylor in well-feigned shock. _"You wouldn't!"_

Emma giggled. "Try me."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then hung up; Emma went to find her mother, and let her know about Sophia coming over for the sleepover.

* * *

Sophia stretched out on her bed, looking wistfully at the wardrobe containing her Shadow Stalker gear. The pants had been washed and mended; it was a pity her own leg could not be so easily fixed.

Her mobile rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. _Hebert household._ Either Taylor or her dad. "You've got Sophia."

_"Hey, Soph," _Taylor's voice said cheerfully.

"Taylor!" Sophia sat up, the smile that crossed her face translating to her voice.

_"Yup,"_ Taylor answered. _"You get home okay?"_

"Sure," said Sophia. "I'm lying down resting my leg right now. I might try walking unaided tomorrow."

_"Don't strain yourself,"_ warned Taylor.

Sophia grinned. "I've been doing track and field since I was ten. I know about straining myself." She paused, and asked the question that was burning a hole in her forebrain. "So ... did she say yes?"

_"She did,"_ confirmed Taylor. _"So long as, you know, you refrain from trying to beat her up over me."_

Sophia paused for a long moment. "So ... she noticed."

_"It's all good,"_ Taylor assured her. _"She doesn't mind. She is, and I quote, too interested in boys, unquote."_

"Oh, boys are _nice,_" Sophia grinned. "But ... they're not you." _I've never met a boy who could grab my attention as thoroughly as you can. Who I can __**respect**__._

_"Okay, blushing now,"_ giggled Taylor over the phone. _"But yeah, it 's all good. Bring your own night wear and toiletries, and favourite pillow if you have one."_

Sophia nodded, although Taylor of course could not see her. "Okay. See you then."

_"See you then."_

They hung up then, and Sophia lay back on her bed, a smile crossing her face from side to side.

_Oh, man, _she thought_. This is gonna be __**epic**__._

* * *

End of Part Two


	3. Chapter 3

**Shadow Stalker: Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 3 – the Sleepover

* * *

Sophia's dad dropped her off outside Emma's house, then drove away. He was out of sight by the time she reached the steps. She worked her way up them, leaning heavily on the rail, and knocked on the door.

Emma opened the door almost at once. "Sophia," she greeted the other girl. "Come on in. Here, let me take your bag."

Sophia hung on to the bag. "I'm good," she said stubbornly. She limped into the house, favouring her injured leg but still using it.

Emma looked at her. "You're off your crutches. Wow, doesn't that leg hurt?"

Sophia nodded. "Pain is a thing. Things can be ignored." She looked around. "Taylor not here yet?"

Emma hooked her head toward the back of the house. "Taylor's just showering now. She came in all sweaty." She rolled her eyes. "Apparently she's decided to take up exercise all of a sudden. As if she's _got_ weight to lose."

Sophia limped forward, her mind formulating the image of Taylor, covered in sweat and not much else, and finding it ... compelling. "I'm sure she's got her reasons," she said shortly. She dropped her bag and collapsed into one of the armchairs.

Part of her wanted to go back there and surprise Taylor in the shower. A larger, more sensible, part of her was quite adamant that if she did this, then any chance of Taylor becoming closer to her would go from 'reasonable' to 'zero'.

Instead, she looked up at Emma. "You exercise?" she asked. Emma wasn't out of shape, exactly, but she didn't _look_ that fit.

"Just enough to keep my abs firm," confessed Emma. "I do a bit of modelling. Swimsuit shoots, clothing, stuff like that."

"Huh," said Sophia. "Never met a real live model before." _Well, at least she's doing _**_something _**_with herself._

Taylor entered the room at that point, still towelling her hair vigorously. She was wearing her flannel pyjamas, and Sophia's mind temporarily locked up. The pyjamas actually covered her up _more_ than normal clothes would, but she looked utterly cute and adorable. Which were words that Sophia had never considered to be important when it came to her potential partners, but this had changed, of late.

"Sophia," she said, her face lighting up. "You came."

Sophia smiled back at her, the expression still unfamiliar, but coming more and more readily when she looked at Taylor. "Yeah," she said. "I came."

"I'll go shower now," said Emma. "You guys catch up." She headed off toward the bathroom.

Taylor took a seat next to Sophia. "Wow," she said. "You're off your crutches. How does your leg feel?"

"Hurts like a bitch," Sophia said honestly. "But I can walk on it. Not gonna let some pissant Merchant goon keep _me_ down."

Taylor grinned. "You're so tough, so strong," she said admiringly. "I don't know how you do it."

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Says the girl who can bench press a Mack truck and catch bullets in her bare hands, if she has a mind to," she retorted.

"Yeah, but that's when I'm amped up," said Taylor. "You can't do that. When you get hurt, you get hurt." She pulled up her pyjama top, showing the pink scar across her belly. "When I got this, I fainted."

Sophia caught her breath, less at the sight of the old injury than by Taylor's firm, smooth stomach, punctuated by her navel. _Lift that top just a little more ..._

"But you punched out the bitch who did it to you, first," she pointed out, just for something to say. "And then you grabbed _me_ by the throat."

Taylor grinned apologetically. "I _was_ a little pissed," she admitted.

Sophia gestured, a throwaway motion. "I probably deserved it. I let you get hurt."

Shrugging, Taylor pulled down her pyjama top again. "I lived. Never want to do that again, though."

Emma's sister entered the room then, nodded a greeting to the two girls, and headed through to the kitchen. The conversation necessarily tailed off to banal topics until Emma returned, glowing pink from the shower. She had on a flannel teddy and sleeping shorts, and her red hair was bound up in a towel.

"Shower's free," she announced.

Sophia went to get up, but her leg would not let her at first; Taylor bounced out of her chair and offered her a hand. Sophia spotted the subtle signs that she was amping up, and indeed, she found herself being pulled from the chair like she weighed nothing.

"Wow," said Emma, eyes widening. "Your exercise must be really paying off. You did that so easily."

Taylor shrugged and mumbled something; Sophia came to her rescue. "I nearly had it anyway," she explained. "Taylor just gave me that extra nudge that I needed."

"Right, right," said Emma, nodding. "Um, I'll go fix snacks. Taylor, you want to show Sophia where the bathroom is?"

Taylor scooped up Sophia's bag; this time, the dark-skinned girl did not object. "This way," said Taylor cheerfully.

Sophia followed her obediently, aching to run her hands through the riot of damp brown curls that spilled down Taylor's back. "Your hair looks nice," she said suddenly.

"Thanks," said Taylor with a wide grin. "Dad says it's my best feature.". She opened a door. "Here's the bathroom. There are towels in the cupboard; I'll just put your bag in here – oh!"

Sophia had nudged the door shut with her butt, then moved forward, pinning Taylor up against the wall of the bathroom. She leaned with all her weight against Taylor, pressing her wrists back against the tiles, chest to chest, looking up into Taylor's bemused face.

"Sophia?" asked Taylor quietly.

"I want – I want to kiss you, so badly," said Sophia. "Just sitting ... watching you. I want to ..." _Tear all your clothes off, drag you down to the floor, do things to you that I've only seen online._

And then Taylor was pulling her arms free from Sophia's grip, so easily, so effortlessly, that she must be amped up. "Sophia," she said softly. She placed her hands on either side of Sophia's waist, lifted her up so that she was sitting on the washstand, her face on a level with Taylor's.

She took her glasses off; her face looked sweeter, more vulnerable. "I had no idea you were feeling that strongly about it," she said quietly. "One kiss, okay? One kiss. Can you be satisfied with that, tonight?"

Sophia nodded. _It's better than nothing_, she told herself.

So then Taylor kissed her. It was nothing like the first kiss; that had been almost as much a surprise to Sophia as it was to Taylor. This one ...

Their lips met, and pressed together. Taylor's arm's wrapped around Sophia's body; and Sophia's wrapped around Taylor. Lips parted, and Sophia's tongue intruded through, to be met by Taylor's. Neither was experienced at this sort of kissing, so it was a little awkward, but they learned fast.

When they finally separated, Sophia's head was spinning slightly, and she was breathing hard. Taylor's eyes seemed a little unfocused as well.

"Wow," breathed Taylor. "So _that's_ what it's all about."

Sophia nodded, wordlessly. She held on to Taylor.

"Well," said Taylor, "I'm not comfortable with going any farther than that for a while ... but I think we can do this again, sometime." She favoured Sophia with a peck on the lips. "Okay?"

Sophia smiled. "Okay," she said. _"Definitely_ okay." And then her face sobered, and she hung her head. "And sorry about being a pushy jerk," she said quietly.

Taylor shook her head gently, and smiled. "If I'd known how good a real kiss could feel, I might've done this already," she said. She cupped Sophia's cheek in her hand. "Just ... be a little more careful, next time, okay? I nearly clocked you, when you took me by surprise." She took her glasses from the washstand and put them back on.

Sophia nodded, contritely. "I'll do that." She thrilled to the feel of Taylor's strong hands as she was lifted down from the washstand. "If I was to ask you stay and help me have a shower, with my hurt leg and all ...?" she asked hopefully.

Taylor giggled and ruffled her hair. "I'd think you were trying to push it," she grinned. "Go on and have your shower, you pushy jerk." Still smiling, she exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Sophia had her shower. There seemed to be about fourteen different controls, most of them to do with extra spray or directional bursts. But she figured it out, and got clean. She also spent more than a little time rubbing herself with the soap, imagining Taylor in the shower with her.

But all good things must come to an end, and so she finished her shower, dried off, and put on her nightwear; a soft t-shirt and sleeping shorts, not unlike Emma's.

* * *

Emma looked up as Taylor entered the kitchen. "You took your time," she observed. "Stop for a little bit of a cuddle, did we?" She grinned as Taylor reddened.

"It wasn't like that," Taylor mumbled, then nodded. "Okay, so it _was_ like that. She wanted to kiss me, so ... I kissed her."

Emma's eyebrows shot up. "Ooh, second kiss," she said. "How was it? Come on, juicy details, tell all."

Taylor leaned back against the door frame in her pyjamas, and sighed. "It was ... nice. Nicer than I expected. A _lot_ nicer than I expected."

"So we're starting to feel the attraction too, are we?" grinned Emma. She was enjoying this immensely.

"No ... yes ... maybe?" hedged Taylor.

Emma chuckled. "Well, _that _certainly clears it up," she commented. Taylor stuck her tongue out at her.

Emma busied herself with making up more of the reconstituted juice, and didn't quite look at her. "If you start a full-on relationship with Sophia," she said, "what does that mean for us? Our friendship?"

"We'll still be friends!" protested Taylor.

"Will we?" asked Emma quietly. "There's already something between you two, something that excludes me, a barrier I can't break through. If I didn't know you were still at the kissing stage, I'd be thinking you'd gone a lot farther than that. Because when I see you two glancing at each other, there's something there, something I can't figure out."

Taylor shook her head. "It's not that, Emma," she said. "That's something else."

Emma tilted her head. "What else is there? Is there another secret you're hiding from me?" she asked. Her tone was hurt rather than accusatory, but Taylor flinched anyway.

"I'm sorry," she said miserably. "I ... I can't tell you, not right now." _Not until I've had a chance to talk to Dad and Sophia about it first._

Emma sighed. "Okay. Just so you know, I'm always ready to listen."

Feeling like an utter heel, Taylor helped her carry the snacks to her bedroom, which was where the sleepover would take place.

"I'll go wait for Sophia to get out of the shower, so she doesn't get lost looking for us," said Taylor. _I have to talk to her._

"Sure," said Emma. "You're gone more than half an hour, I'll be ringing the wedding registry."

"Oh, ha ha," said Taylor, and stalked out of the bedroom.

* * *

When Sophia opened the bathroom door, Taylor was right there. She pushed her way in, closing the door behind her.

"Sophia," she said, "we've got a problem."

"What?" asked Sophia. "What's up?"

Taylor sighed. "Emma and I have just had a talk. About you and me."

Sophia frowned. "I don't see that what we do is any of her business."

Taylor grimaced. "Sophia, she can tell something's going on, over and above what you feel about me. She's scared for our friendship."

Sophia looked concerned. "You didn't tell her we had powers, did you?"

Taylor shook her head. "No, but I think maybe we should, sometime. If only to put her mind at ease. I don't know what she thinks is going on between us, but she knows it's excluding her, and that worries her."

Sophia shook her head violently. "No. Secret identities stay secret for a good reason. You can out yourself to her – she's _your_ friend – but not me."

"But don't you get it?" asked Taylor imploringly. "If I tell her the big secret is that I have powers, she'll make the connection. Just me having powers is something that I would share with her if I've shared with you. She'll figure out that you've got powers too, inside of thirty seconds."

"Then we _don't_ tell her," said Sophia immediately.

"But I've got to tell her _something,_" Taylor insisted.

"Not about me," Sophia said stubbornly.

Taylor took a deep breath. "I'll let you kiss me again," she said desperately.

"And second base," countered Sophia.

"Second base?" asked Taylor, not comprehending.

"I get to touch your breast," Sophia clarified.

"Only on the outside of my top," Taylor stated firmly.

"Sure," agreed Sophia.

Taylor took Sophia in her arms, not bothering with the washstand, and leaned down toward her. "Just so we're clear," she said. "I kiss you, you get to touch my breast, and you're okay with me telling Emma that we've both got powers." She paused. _"And _you behave for the rest of the night. No trying to cop a feel, or anything like that."

Sophia nodded urgently. "Yeah, sure, that's it," she said.

Taylor kissed Sophia again. This time, the dynamic was somewhat different; Taylor was taller, so Sophia found herself in the subordinate position, rather than the equal or even dominant position. And Taylor had learned a lot about kissing in the first encounter, so she wasn't nearly as tentative as the first time around.

She felt Sophia caressing her meagre breasts through her pyjama top, but didn't pay it much mind. The kiss was ... wow. Even better than the last time.

When she finally broke the kiss, her head was spinning slightly. She had a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach that she had no time to stop and analyse, because Sophia's knees had buckled and she'd nearly ended up on the bathroom floor.

Taylor caught her in time, and crouched down with her, holding her up so that she didn't fall. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Sophia looked at her out of unfocused eyes. "Christ, yes," she mumbled. "After that kiss? Tell Emma. Tell her whole goddamn family. I don't care. Wow."

Taylor frowned. "Are you _sure_ you're all right?"

Sophia nodded, her eyes unglazing. "Wow, fuck, yes. I just ... fuck." She stared at Taylor. "Why didn't you _tell_ me you could kiss like that?"

"Like what?" asked Taylor, frowning. "It was a nice kiss, but ..."

Sophia shook her head. "Yeah, no. We don't have time to go into that, now. Just tell me you'll kiss me like that again sometime."

Taylor nodded. "Sure," she said. "It was nice. I liked it."

"Good," said Sophia. "Now, let's go find your friend before she starts thinking we're having wild monkey sex on the floor of the bathroom."

Taylor was still giggling when they reached the bedroom.

* * *

"... and that's triple word score, for ... seventy-two points," noted Taylor, placing the letters.

Emma rolled her eyes, and glanced at Sophia, who herself wasn't looking too thrilled.

"Seriously, Taylor," she said. "Do you have _all_ the good letters?"

Taylor frowned. "No, not really," she said. "I have a Q and no U, so I can't place that ... oh wait, I can. That word's got a U in it."

Emma looked at the scores. Taylor's beat hers and Sophia's combined.

"Yeah, I think I know why we haven't played Scrabble in ages," she commented.

Sophia nodded. "Is there something else we can play?"

"Well, the toenail polish seems to have dried, so let's see what your Rainbow Dazzle looks like, Sophia," said Taylor. She examined the nails closely. "Ooh, nice. I like the flakes of glitter."

Emma nodded. "That's very cool. Better than Strawberry Crush." She eyed her own toenails dubiously.

Taylor looked at hers. "Not sure if Scarlet Dreams is my colour."

Emma shook her head. "I don't think it is, somehow."

Taylor sighed. "Okay, let's try something else. Ooh, Peach Surprise."

* * *

"Okay, if you were a cape," said Emma to Taylor, "what powers would you pick?"

Taylor frowned. "What, any powers?"

Emma nodded. "Anything. You hit the jackpot."

"Huh," said Taylor. "I think ... the ability to make my hair grow out like thirty feet long, and grab people. And it works by super-static electricity, so I can electrocute people too."

"Ah," said Emma. "But because it's static electricity, water will kill your power."

Sophia grinned. "So if your hair got wet, it would totally be out of your control."

Taylor nodded. "That's fair." She looked at Sophia. "Okay, Soph, what powers would you like to have, if you were a cape?"

Sophia thought about this. "The power to control bugs," she said.

"Really?" asked Taylor.

"Bugs?" asked Emma.

"Sure," said Sophia, warming to her subject. "There's bugs everywhere, and they're really badass, some of them. And it's not just one bug, it's like every bug inside, oh, a quarter of a mile, all at the same time. And I'd be able to do that multi-function thing ..." She snapped her fingers.

"Multitasking," supplied Taylor.

"Thank you, Mistress of Scrabble," retorted Sophia. "Yeah, multitasking. The more bugs I got, the more I can control, and I can make every single bug do something different. And I'd get the spiders to spin their webs and weave me a costume that's, like, bulletproof ..."

"What, really?" asked Emma. "Spiderweb is bulletproof?"

"No, she's right," said Taylor. "They say that spider silk is stronger than Kevlar, so a costume woven out of spider silk would be as good as a Kevlar vest, maybe better."

"Okay," said Emma. "So Taylor is hair-growing girl, and Sophia is creepy spider lady. I think I'd want ... the ability to control air."

Sophia immediately made a realistic farting sound. All three girls collapsed in laughter. Because at that age, fart jokes are always funny.

"No, really," said Emma, wiping her eyes. "Control air. Send a tornado blast at someone, use air to lift me up so I can fly, maybe even pull air from around someone so they can't breathe."

"What, like a total vacuum?" asked Taylor.

Emma snorted. "Okay, now _that's_ far-fetched," she declared.

"Oh, like bug control isn't?" asked Taylor.

"Hey," said Sophia. "Leave my bug control alone."

* * *

"Truth or dare," challenged Emma, looking at Sophia.

Sophia looked back at her. "Dare," she said boldly.

Emma considered her. "Okay ..." she said. "Taylor, ideas?"

Taylor shrugged. "Not me," she said.

Emma grinned wickedly. "Take off your top for five seconds."

"Emma!" protested Taylor.

"It's fine," said Sophia. "It's not like we don't know what breasts look like." She peeled off her singlet top and sat there, displaying her small, firm breasts. Neither girl looked away. They _were_ rather nice breasts.

At last, Taylor cleared her throat. "Uh, five seconds is up. You can put it back on."

Sophia put her top back on, then raised an eyebrow. "That makes it my turn, right?"

Emma and Taylor nodded.

"Remember," cautioned Emma, "you can't use a dare someone else has used."

Sophia grinned. "A little worried there? You've got a bit more to show than I do."

Emma reddened; Taylor giggled.

Sophia flipped a coin. "Heads ... Taylor. Truth or dare."

Taylor looked at her unflinchingly. "Truth," she said.

Sophia took a long time to think about her question. Finally, she said, "What would you most like to change about yourself?"

Taylor was mildly surprised. She was expecting something along the lines of _Do you love me?_ or _Did you like my breasts?_

"Oh, uh," she said. "Huh." She paused. "I wish I wasn't as skinny as I am. Just a little bit of shape, is all I ask for." She cupped her hands in front of her, to ensure that no-one missed her point.

Emma giggled; Sophia grinned.

"You'll get there," Emma promised, with the assurance of someone who has already gotten there.

"So," said Taylor. "My turn." She took the coin off of Sophia and flipped it. "Tails ... Sophia." She grinned at the dark-skinned girl. "Truth or dare?"

Sophia grinned back. "Dare," she said challengingly.

Taylor considered this. Sophia had picked Dare every time. She obviously considered physical challenges more worthwhile than answering embarrassing questions.

"Emma?" she asked. "Ideas?"

"Make her lie across your lap with her pants down while you spank her," suggested Emma.

Taylor raised an eyebrow at her. "Seriously? I think you got up to more on that holiday than you're letting on."

Emma tilted her head in vague agreement. "Mayyybe."

"Well, no, I'm not spanking Sophia, especially not with her pants down," said Taylor firmly. "There's dares and then there's ... too much."

"I don't mind," said Sophia.

Taylor grimaced. _I'm sure you don't._ "No," she said. "Your dare will be ... to tell Emma what we talked about in the bathroom."

Sophia's eyes opened wide, and she stared at Taylor.

"What, here?" she blurted. "Now?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, you made a promise."

Sophia bit her lip, then sighed. She turned to Emma, who was staring at her curiously.

"I ..." she began. "I ... Taylor and I ..." She stopped again. "Shit."

Taylor made little 'go-ahead' motions with her hands. "Or would you rather Truth?" she asked gently.

"Fuck that," growled Sophia. "I know what fucking question you'd ask."

Taylor didn't bother denying it. "So ... do you forfeit the dare?"

Sophia shook her head vigorously. "No." She stood up, paced back and forth, then sat down again. Then she looked at Emma and said, "You know when you asked if Taylor was going out and beating people up?"

"Yes ..." Emma said, fascinated by the by-play.

"Well, it wasn't Taylor. It was me. I go out and beat people up." She took a deep breath. "I've got powers. I'm a cape. And so is Taylor."

Emma stared at the both of them. "Well, fuck me."

* * *

"I always thought Shadow Stalker was taller," said Emma.

Sophia shrugged. "I wear lifts. Every little bit counts, when you're my height."

Emma looked at Taylor. "And you're some sort of Brute. How does that work?"

Taylor shrugged vaguely. "Give me any sort of warning, and I'm as strong and tough as I need to be."

_"And_ she totally no-sells my power," declared Sophia. "Seriously. The first time she grabbed me while I was in shadow form, if I could have wet myself, I would have." She stuck out her tongue at Taylor. "I still say it's totally not fair."

Taylor grinned at her. "Says the girl with a body I'd die for."

Emma was looking at Taylor. "So when you get stronger, is it like that old comic character the Hulk? All green and muscly and stuff?"

Taylor shook her head. "Not really." She exerted her power. There was a buzzing in her ears, a sort of pressure in her skull, and strange shadows on the corners of her vision. When she spoke, her voice sounded oddly in her ears, very slow and ponderous. "I'm ... using ... it ... now. I ... could ... probably ... bash ... through ... the ... wall ... now."

"You sound kind of weird," said Emma. "Like the voice isn't really you anymore."

Taylor relaxed the power, let the amps bleed off. Vision and hearing returned to normal, and her heart rate picked up again. "I'm not sure why that is," she said. "I mean, it's not like my voice is any stronger."

Emma grinned. "Well, who cares. Now I know what the big secret is." She smiled at Sophia and Taylor. "Thanks for letting me in on it. I promise I won't tell anyone."

Taylor nodded. "I know. That's why I even considered telling you in the first place."

"Does your dad know?" asked Emma next.

Taylor nodded. "He was there."

That led to a retelling of the story, with both Taylor and Sophia eliding over certain aspects, but leaving in the punching-across-the-alley bits. After that, they told her the story of how Flannel Pyjamas Girl saved Shadow Stalker from the Merchants.

" ... and this guy points his gun at Taylor, right," said Sophia. "And she just puts up her hand, like all casual, and she's gone all real slow, and the guy shoots, and – I shit you not, Emma, if I'm lying I'll take off my clothes and streak through the whole house – she _caught_ the fucking _bullet_."

Emma stared at Taylor. "You caught a _bullet._ In your _hand."_

Taylor nodded and shrugged and mumbled something about, "Just a fluke."

"What happened then?" asked Emma.

"Well," said Sophia, "after she squashed that bullet between her finger and thumb, there were about a dozen puddles of piss on the ground, and no fucking Merchants within two blocks."

Emma started laughing. "Oh god," she said. "I wish I could have seen it."

"I _did_ see it," Sophia grinned. "And I _still_ don't believe it."

Emma got up and turned the lights out. Carefully, making sure not to step on anyone, she made her way back to the mattress on the floor she was sleeping on tonight.

"Okay," she said into the darkness. "If anyone does any cuddling and kissing tonight and wakes me up, be ready to have candid photos on the internet tomorrow."

"Okay," replied Taylor, from one side of her.

"Okay," echoed Sophia, from the other side of her.

"Good," she said.

* * *

Approximately ten seconds later, Taylor felt her blanket lifting, and Sophia crawled into bed with her. She tensed, but Sophia did not seem to want to do more than hold her. She relaxed into the embrace, which put her face next to Sophia's.

After that, it only seemed natural to kiss her a few times.

Kissing Sophia was actually very nice.

They fell asleep in each others' arms.

* * *

End of Part Three


	4. Chapter 4

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 4 – Out and About

* * *

_[Author's Note: Racial slurs appear in this segment. You have been warned.]_

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," grumbled Taylor as she ran across the rooftop, then launched herself into the air.

She wore a basic black sweater and cargo pants under a long coat, which served to bulk out her figure a little. Heavy work boots, gloves, and goggles, the latter spray-painted bronze by her father, completed the ensemble. The lenses of the goggles had been replaced with those from a spare pair of glasses, so that she could at least see clearly.

At her hip, she carried the heaviest wrench from her father's toolkit. He had insisted that she take it along; she didn't need it to hit hard, but it made him feel better, so she took it. And to be honest, it made her feel better too.

Shadow Stalker grinned behind her mask as she paced Taylor, moving in and out of shadow form as she needed to. "You're the one who was worried about my leg," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I was saying you should rest it a few more days," said Taylor. "Not come out rooftop running as soon as you could walk without limping."

Shadow Stalker shook her head. "Every night I'm not out here is a night some criminal scumbag is breaking the law and I'm not stopping him," she said.

"But I'm not a hero," protested Taylor. "I don't want to come out and beat people up, at least not until I'm sure I can do it without killing them."

"So think of it as a ride-along, like cops do with journalists," pointed out Sophia. "You'll see why I do it, and maybe change your mind."

"So if we're stopped by the Protectorate or whoever, what do I call myself? Goggles girl?"

* * *

Sophia came to a stop on the next rooftop. Taylor stopped too; Sophia took a look at her. She looked so sexy in that outfit. But then, Sophia thought Taylor looked sexy in anything.

"Well, like you said awhile ago, you could call yourself Breaker, or Amp," she suggested.

"Isn't Breaker a power _type?"_ asked Taylor.

"Which is basically what you are," Shadow Stalker told her. "You're a Breaker who uses your powers to make yourself into a Brute, and minor Mover abilities."

Taylor shrugged. "Okay, I guess. But I'm not out here to kick heads. I'm out here to make sure your leg's not gonna give out on you."

"And I appreciate it, I really do," said Sophia. She looked closely at Taylor. "I know you've been exercising, but you're hardly even breathing hard."

Taylor shrugged. "Amping up makes it a bit easier. Also makes it seem like I'm doing it slower. Like I don't need to put as much effort into it?" She shook her head. "I'm really not sure how that works."

"Yeah, but –" began Shadow Stalker, but then she tilted her head. "Hear that?" It sounded like distant cry of pain, or fear.

"Yeah," said Taylor, but Shadow Stalker was already on the move. Taylor took a run-up, amping for the strength, then jumped. She sailed through the air, feeling as though she were a leaf drifting on the wind. Below, Sophia looked up as she passed overhead, coat flaring dramatically.

_She's so strong,_ she thought. _So capable. We could do so much to clean up this city, together.__I just need to jolt her out of that pacifist mindset._

* * *

Landing was a tricky business; Taylor didn't want so much amp that she would punch straight through the roof, but nor did she want so little that she was unable to absorb the impact. But she was learning. She only left an inch-deep footprint in the roof, this time.

Shadow Stalker caught up, flashed her a grin through the hockey mask, and kept going. Taylor leaped again.

* * *

The newly-established Palanquin nightclub was promising to become one of the city's premier night spots. Unfortunately, parking in the area was at a premium; anyone getting there late had to walk quite a ways to get to the club itself. And the local lowlives were starting to clue into this.

There were four of them, two guys and two girls. One of the guys was bleeding from a cut to the hand; they were backed up into a corner formed between the wall and a dumpster.

Sophia couldn't make out the gang colours from on top of the roof, but she didn't need to. There were eight of those, and armed with knives, chains and lengths of pipe. Just right for dealing with four defenseless people.

"Well?" said Taylor. "What are you going to do?"

Sophia realised that she'd drifted into her previous mindset; she'd been subconsciously been waiting to see if any of the victims showed signs of fight. _But Taylor doesn't approve of that ..._

"This," she said, and launched herself off the edge of the roof, going shadow a moment later.

* * *

Taylor watched, her heart in her mouth.

_I should be down there, helping her,_ she told herself.

_But she knows how to do this,_ she countered. _I don't. If I go down there, I could get in her way. She could get hurt._

She steeled herself. _If anything goes wrong, I'm going down there. I don't care.__If something happened to Sophia because of me, I'd never forgive myself._

* * *

Sophia recognised the gang colours as she landed and flowed into the attack. _Empire Eighty-Eight. Christ. Just what I need – these Neo-Nazi fucks moving into this area._

One of the E88 goons looked around, just in time to be kicked in the face, as Shadow Stalker performed a flawless backward somersault. She went ghost halfway through, allowing a knife to pass through her misty body.

Landing in a crouch, she smashed out a side-kick as she flickered into solidity for a moment. It connected, driving the man's knee sideways. He yelled in pain, but did not drop. _Crap_.

_I'm out of training, not at my best._ She realised this, realised that she wasn't hitting as hard as she was used to doing. A boot smashed into her ribs, an instant before she went ghost, knocking her off her feet.

Rolling backward, she solidified as she came to her feet, her crossbow coming out. She loosed a shot which nailed one guy through the forearm. Blood welled around the entry and exit wounds as he stumbled backward, the arrow sticking out both sides at once.

"Right," she said, levelling her other crossbow. "Now I that got your attention ..."

One of the other thugs yelled and threw his pipe. It flipped end over end toward her; she went shadow to let it go through her, and the other six rushed her. Reflexively, she loosed a shot; it left the crossbow in ghost form, passed through the men, and solidified just in time to smack into the opposite wall of the alley.

And then, as she tried to extricate her ghost-form from the tangle of legs and boots and slashing knives, she heard the most beautiful sound in the world.

**_BOOM_**.

The sound of a skinny teenage girl weighing less than a hundred pounds hitting the concrete with the impact of a cannonball.

Every E88 goon, save the one cradling his forearm, turned to look.

* * *

Taylor looked back at them, standing foursquare in her long-coat and bronzed goggles, heavy wrench in hand, cracks spreading in all directions from where her boots were sunk half an inch into the concrete.

"Now," she said, her very voice seeming to vibrate, to grate upon the eardrums, "we can do this the easy way or the hard way." It was the voice of a teenage girl. Mostly. Sophia recognised this as a sign that Taylor was well amped up.

* * *

Taylor hoped that the bad guys, whoever they were, would pick the easy way. She didn't really want to hurt them.

But, of course, there's always someone who doesn't get the hint.

Turning from the unrewarding pastime of kicking vainly at the ghost girl, one of the E88 goons stepped toward Taylor, swinging his chain overhead.

She didn't want it hitting her goggles, so she raised her arm; the movement felt as though it took an age, but it got there in time. The chain wrapped around her arm and he yanked hard, but it was as if she were set in stone. She didn't weigh any more than normal, but her sheer inertia was far more than he could easily budge; thus, when she set her feet and pulled on the chain, he came to her instead.

He came fast, chain-wrapped fist swinging at her face. He hit her in the jaw, just beside her mouth. There was a sickening crack, and he clutched at his hand, crushed by the chain links biting into his knuckles, crushed by the force of his punch against the unyielding barrier that appeared to be a teenage girl.

She stepped forward, shoving him lightly aside. He landed heavily, skidded several yards. Her foot crushed concrete as it came down, leaving treadmarks from her boots. She took hold of another goon, tossed him on top of the first one. They were all staring at her, now.

The ringing in her ears was bad; she could hardly hear anything. Her heart was labouring in her chest. Flickers at the edge of her vision indicated ... what? She had rarely held high amp for this long. She could go higher, but she really didn't want to.

She pointed down the alley with one hand. "Go." With her other hand, she raised the wrench. The threat was implicit. _So far I haven't used force. This can change._

They bolted; the injured men scrambled up and followed.

* * *

Shadow Stalker regained her feet, went solid. She stared at Taylor as the taller girl stumbled, leaned against the wall.

"You okay?" she asked. "Not hurt?"

Taylor shook her head. "No," she said, and her voice was almost normal now. "That just ... took a bit out of me." She stood straighter, took a deep breath. "I'm getting better at it, though."

The four partygoers moved forward, staring at Shadow Stalker and Taylor.

"Th-thanks," said the man with the cut hand. He was holding a handkerchief to the wound; it was stained red, but the bleeding did not seem to be too bad. "Do – do you want us to wait around for the police or something?"

Taylor looked at his hand. "Do you need assistance there, sir?"

He looked down at his hand. "I suppose, yes," he said. "It really hurts."

Taylor reached under her coat, sliding the wrench into the loop on her belt. She pulled out a small first aid kit, and walked over to him. "Okay," she said, "let me see that."

* * *

Shadow Stalker watched as she cleaned the cut, put a dab of disinfectant on it, then carefully bandaged it. Her hands moved swiftly and surely; she'd said something about taking a first aid course, but this was the first time Sophia had had the chance to watch her without being in pain herself.

She had taken off her heavy gloves to apply the first aid, and her long, slender fingers had a certain grace about them. Sophia felt that she could watch Taylor do this all day. _She should be a doctor,_ she thought. _Or a concert pianist._

And then the moment was over, the bandage secured, and Taylor was pulling her gloves back on. She glanced over at Sophia, who blushed dark behind her mask, glad that no-one could see her face in the shadow.

* * *

They walked with the four people back to their car; they had decided to take their friend directly to the hospital rather than wait for an ambulance. This, of course, freed up Taylor and Shadow Stalker for more rooftop running.

"What are your names?" asked one of the women, looking at Taylor. "Are you with the Wards?"

Taylor shook her head. "This is Shadow Stalker; she's an independent. I'm ... still deciding. You can call me Breaker."

* * *

As the car drove away, Taylor turned to Sophia. "Your ribs?" she asked pointedly. "I could see you trying to hide it, but I know how you move."

"They're fine, just bruised," Sophia replied. "I rolled with most of it."

Taylor nodded in acknowledgement. "That could have gone a lot worse," she observed. They started back toward where the altercation had happened, strolling along the street.

Shadow Stalker nodded. "I had it under control, but thanks for stepping in," she said.

Taylor smiled crookedly. "So I saw," she said. "I could see you were getting bored, so I thought I'd just take over for a bit."

Shadow Stalker chuckled, a little self-consciously. "'Bored' wasn't exactly the word I would have used," she said, then winced and held her ribs.

"Bruised, huh?" asked Taylor, raising an eyebrow.

"Bruised," repeated Sophia. "Just bruised. But you don't need to break a bone for it to hurt like a son of a bitch."

Taylor frowned. "You took a big risk. Were you showing off for me or something?"

"Maybe," allowed Sophia. "And I was trying not to use my crossbows. Like you say, they're a bit lethal." She sighed. "And I'm just a touch off my form."

Taylor tilted her head slightly. "So we'll get you back on form before you go out again."

"You know, it would be a lot easier," Sophia pointed out slyly, "if you'd come out with me regularly. You could make sure I don't get hurt, and you could do a lot of good."

Taylor sighed. "You know, most people would just ask me on a date and be done with it."

Sophia looked at her, startled. "_Would_ you come on a date with me?"

Taylor grinned at her. "Sure, I guess. Just don't get, you know, too grabby, okay?"

"I ... sure," said Sophia. Her mind was in chaos. For some reason, she had never thought of the simple, mundane idea of asking Taylor out on a date. _I've been fixated on the vigilante thing for way too long. It's coloured my thinking._

"And in the meantime," said Taylor, breaking into her thoughts, "we can spar, if you want. You can show me a few moves, and I'll amp up a bit and be your practise dummy."

"Just make sure you're not amped up when you hit me, okay?" retorted Sophia. "I don't feel like being punched across the room."

"Well, it'll teach you to dodge better," Taylor pointed out. "I think you're too reliant on your powers, there."

"Says the girl who can ignore them at will," Sophia responded. "That's not gonna happen every day."

"It only needs to happen _once,"_ replied Taylor meaningfully.

Sophia was just trying to formulate a reply when they turned the corner and came face to face with seven people.

Six of these were the uninjured gang members they had run into just earlier.

The seventh was tall, with long greasy hair. He wore no costume, just a sleeveless shirt and jeans. On his right bicep was a tattoo with the characters "E88". Over his face was a metal mask, shaped like a snarling wolf.

"Oh, shit," said Shadow Stalker quietly.

* * *

The tall man in the wolf mask looked at them, apparently incredulously, then turned to his minions. "You have to be shitting me," he said. "You fucking ran away from these two bitches? The shadow nigger herself, and some skinny bitch in goggles?"

"But she's really strong," protested one of the men. "Joe broke his hand when he punched her."

"So I won't _punch_ her," retorted the tall man.

* * *

"What do we do?" asked Taylor, not moving her lips. The Empire Eighty-Eight people were less than twenty feet away, discussing them as though they weren't there.

"When I say the word," muttered Shadow Stalker. "Fucking _run._ We don't fuck with Hookwolf."

_Hookwolf_. Taylor had heard the name. She had not heard good things about him.

"Run, gotcha," she murmured back.

* * *

"Hey, Shadow Bitch," Hookwolf said, looking directly at Sophia. "What the fuck are you doing in Empire territory?"

"Just doing my job, Hookwolf," retorted Shadow Stalker defiantly. "Keeping the scum off the streets."

He chuckled, seeming to find that amusing. "And who's that with you? Haven't seen her around before."

Taylor lifted her chin. "I'm Breaker," she said, trying not to let her voice shake.

"Breaker?" retorted Hookwolf. "What the fuck sort of name is that? Are you _a_ Breaker, or you just break things?"

Taylor started amping up, feeling the sensation of compression, of inertia come over her. "A bit of column A, a bit of column B," she replied evenly.

Sophia heard the edge to her voice, and knew she was amped. _Good; we're gonna need it._

"Hey, if you're all that fucking good," said Hookwolf, "you can ditch the nigger and come work for the Empire. Our money's good."

"Thanks," said Taylor, "but I think I prefer the company I'm keeping right now."

"Your fucking funeral," growled Hookwolf. Metal plates started sliding out of his skin, covering his body. "Any last words?"

Taylor felt Sophia's hand tap hers, just as she heard the other girl whisper, _"Run!"_

They ran.

* * *

_[Author's Note: Yup, this is a cliffhanger. I have no idea how long the fight scene is going to draw out.]_

* * *

End of Part Four


	5. Chapter 5

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 5: Hookwolf and Beyond

* * *

They ran.

The E88 people gave chase, of course; that was to be expected.

But Shadow Stalker – Sophia Hess – had done track and field and, injured leg or no injured leg, she was a fast runner. She pulled ahead of Taylor, who was only a mediocre runner at the best of times, and had her flapping coat and heavy boots to contend with.

However, when Taylor pushed the amps a little harder, and lengthened her stride, she found herself catching up. She wasn't quite leaving footprints in the asphalt, but cracks were being left behind with every footfall.

And from behind, she heard a metallic snarl, and the sound of claws _skreee_ing on that same asphalt, and she accelerated just a little more.

Sophia was almost at the wall of the building she was aiming at; turning to ghost form – which, at Taylor's current level of amp, just made her seem a little fuzzy around the edges – she leaped upward, interfacing her hands and feet with the solid matter of the wall, ascending in great vertical bounds.

Taylor pushed on the amps and _jumped_.

The blunt-ended club that extended far out from Hookwolf's arm took her squarely in the middle of the back.

Taylor felt it as a dull thump, but there was no pain, no injury. Hookwolf was driven back a yard by the obduracy of what he had hit, but he shifted her course just a little. Just far enough that one of her flailing boots hit Shadow Stalker a glancing blow across the side of the head, just before Taylor hit the wall and went _through_ it.

* * *

Dazed and stunned, Sophia felt herself return to normal form, just as bits of brickwork began to rain on her from the hole that Taylor had made. She scrabbled to grab the edge of the hole, then slipped, fell, caught herself, fell, and landed with bruising force.

The wind knocked out of her, she lay, looking dazedly up at the Empire Eighty-Eight gangsters that surrounded her. Hookwolf completed the semi-circle, his human form encased in metal, with wicked-looking spikes here and there, the metal mask on his face now seeming entirely a part of him.

She fought for breath, tried to trigger her power, go insubstantial. Her head was spinning too much. Hookwolf said something, his metallic mask moving slightly in the streetlight, but she could not hear for the roaring in her ears. He drew back his arm, now with a wicked blade protruding from it ...

* * *

Taylor sprawled, half through a wall. She pushed herself free, splintering wood in the process, Her coat caught; she tore it free, and moved back toward the hole she had smashed in the brick wall with her passage.

As she came up to it, she heard Hookwolf snarl, "Any last words, Shadow Bitch?"

As he drew back the blade, Taylor leaped.

She fell straight down, pushing the amps up as hard as she could. Her skull felt too small for her brain, pressing in on her. Her heart faltered, slowed, beating as though against a tremendous load. _Something_ flickered in the corner of her vision.

And time seemed to slow to a crawl.

They seemed to float up toward her as her coat billowed outward; the blade was beginning its downward movement, a movement that was intended for the vitals of Shadow Stalker.

Of Sophia Hess.

Of the girl she was starting to have feelings for.

_Oh _**_hell _**_no._

* * *

_**THOOOM.**_

Taylor's feet slammed into the concrete, one on either side of Sophia's supine body. The blade came down ... and Taylor caught it. One hand gripping the razor-sharp edge, the other taking hold farther back. Then she just ... held it. There was a minor sting as the edge sawed across her palm, drawing a light line of blood, but nothing more than that.

As Hookwolf tried to wrench it free, she glanced down at Sophia. "You okay?" she asked, in a voice that grated on the eardrums.

"Yup," said Shadow Stalker. Taking a breath, she went to ghost form, reforming next to Taylor.

Hookwolf wrenched harder, then extruded more blades and punched them at Taylor's body, to no apparent effect, except to perforate her sweater here and there.

"Change of plans," said Taylor, labouring with each word. "You got the little guys?"

Sophia grinned behind her mask. "I figure," she said. "Why?"

"Because me and Hookie here," said Taylor, "have a play date."

So saying, she wrenched on the blade, pulling it back past her so that the tip jammed into the wall, lodged a foot deep into the brickwork. Then she stepped forward and punched him.

* * *

Hookwolf had been hit hard before, and he would be hit hard again. But never had he been hit so hard by a something that looked so much like a skinny teenager. The blade wrenched free of his arm as his metal body took the massive impact; he flew backward across the narrow street and hit the wall on the other side. As with the girl, the wall gave way before his body did; he ended up lying in a pile of rubble.

He lay there for a moment, taking stock of his injuries. The blow had gone straight through some of his armour plating, severely dented some more. He supposed that he was lucky she didn't have more leverage, more speed, or just longer arms, or she might have put her fist right though _him_.

_Christ, what is this bitch? Some sort of high-end Brute?_

But Empire Eighty-Eight did not give up so easily; _he_ did not give up so easily. He was one of Allfather's lieutenants, below Kaiser, and he would show these bitches a thing or two about how Eighty-Eight did business.

Pulling himself to his feet, he lunged toward the hole in the wall.

And met a dumpster, coming the other way.

This put him through two more internal walls before he stopped. Snarling, he threw the dumpster off of himself, and headed for the impromptu exit once more.

* * *

The Empire Eighty-Eight boys were demoralised enough by seeing Hookwolf punched through a wall that Shadow Stalker had it much easier this time. She was advancing on the last one by the time that Taylor picked up the dumpster. In the time it took Taylor to heft it a few times as if testing the weight, and then throw it, she had him down and subdued.

Taylor let the majority of the amps slide off her as she turned to Shadow Stalker. "You good to go?" she said. "Because I don't know how high I need to go with this guy. I hit him as hard as I thought I should, and he came right back at me."

"So hit him harder, and keep hitting him till he falls over," said Sophia pragmatically.

"Yeah, but I -" began Taylor, but was interrupted by a spiked chain that whipped out of the darkness of tho hole in the building opposite. Sophia went ghost an instant before it would have hit her, but it wrapped securely around Taylor's arms and body.

She hadn't dropped all the amps, so she was not fatally impaled on the spot, but the barbs still dug painfully into her flesh. Before she could do more than utter a startled yelp, the chain tightened and yanked her off her feet. And then, as Sophia watched in horror, she was dragged bodily into the yawning darkness.

"Nooooooo!" screamed Sophia. Without the slightest hesitation, she flung herself into the hole after Taylor and Hookwolf.

* * *

Taylor tried to pile on the amps, but she was tired; she had already pushed herself hard twice tonight. And normally it took her an instant of concentration, a mental effort, to increase her power. She was being denied that instant, as Hookwolf flailed her around the building's interior, smashing through walls and pillars as if they were cardboard.

The impacts were bruising, but not damaging, she realised; upon being grabbed and dragged, she must have added some amps by sheer instinct. But to build on those was proving an effort.

She was building the amps, slowly, slowly. He was finding it harder and harder to throw her around. But he was also building in strength, becoming larger, more powerful. And she couldn't find the leverage to break free of that damned chain. A loop of the it was wrapped around her throat, squeezing like a living thing, making her efforts no easier.

And then light splashed over them both, illuminating the boiling clouds of brick dust, and a ghostly crossbow bolt flew straight and true. Hookwolf bellowed in rage and pain as the missile materialised within his metallic carapace, striking the vulnerable flesh deep inside.

And just for a fatal instant, he relaxed his grip on Taylor, ceased beating her upon the walls and floor of the building. The chain was no longer throttling her.

She drew a deep breath, and amped _hard._

* * *

Hookwolf felt the links of his prehensile spiked tear chain part like so much papier mache. And then his tormentor was hauling on the end that was still connected to him, reeling him in like a gigantic fish. The needle-sharp spikes on the chain, which had before raised blood from her flesh, now crumpled and crushed flat within her grip.

He set his feet, shot grapples into the floor, the ceiling, what walls remained, tried to stand his ground.

She heaved; the grapples bent, groaned, snapped. His feet dragged through the rubble.

Abruptly, he abandoned the attempt to stay away from her. It didn't matter who or what _she_ was; _he_ was Hookwolf, and he had proven she could bleed. And he would do so again.

Releasing the chain, he bulked out as plates covered with metallic spines burst from every joint in his already-formidable integument. Crouching, digging massive lupine foreclaws into the rubble, flexing metallic retrograde legs sporting even more impressive talons than on the front, a scorpion's stinger tail swaying overhead, he eyed her as she discarded the chain. "Come on then!" he bellowed through wolfen jaws, and sprang to the attack.

* * *

Shadow Stalker tried to aim and loose another bolt, but there was far too much dust and flying rubble to pick her target well. She concentrated on staying out of the way and keeping her flashlight on the struggle, so that Taylor could see what she was doing.

Taylor felt Hookwolf's claw-swipe shred the sleeve of her coat, bur barely score a mark in the skin of her arm. _I liked that coat_, she thought, but found the words too hard to articulate. Her return strike, feeling as slow and clumsy as swinging a mattress in zero gravity, hit home nonetheless, tearing the arm from his body, sending it clattering across the rubble.

He roared in rage, beginning to form another one; she grabbed his other one, spun him around, smashed him into one of the few remaining support pillars.

And the building started to collapse.

* * *

Shadow Stalker, turning ghost when she had to, dodged the falling rubble, leaping from perch to perch as the old building came down around them. Hookwolf and Taylor both ignored it; one due to ungovernable rage, the other due to simply not caring.

The massive chunks of brickwork that Sophia nimbly dodged, and which pummelled Hookwolf's metallic body, merely brushed against Taylor like so many ungainly balloons drifting slowly to the ground. Some burst asunder as she gently nudged them aside.

The last of the rubble settled; bursting out of it came Taylor and Hookwolf. She was inflicting by far the most damage upon him, but he was too stubborn to give up. Pieces of metal littered the rubble for yards around, added to every time she landed a blow upon him.

For her part, her coat was tattered, one lens of her goggles smashed, and she was terribly weary. But she could not stop fighting, not until she had beaten him down or driven him off.

* * *

_"Cape fight in progress, three blocks from Palanquin nightclub on Lord St. Closest unit, please respond."_

Miss Militia keyed her mic as she banked the transport. "Five niner three, responding."

_"Five niner three, I have you as a training and familiarisation flight. People on board?"_

"Miss Militia, with Triumph as co. Trainee is Vista." She paused, reading gauges. "Thirty seconds from location."

_"Miss Militia, Vista is too young to be brought into a combat situation. Director's orders."_

Miss Militia sighed. "Roger, base. We'll stand off."

She brought the transport to a hover. "Triumph, hold it there. Can you do that?"

The young hero nodded uncertainly, taking the controls. The transport wobbled, but then steadied. Miss Militia nodded approvingly, then ducked back into the passenger cabin. Setting her feet, she pulled open the side sliding door. Wind rushed in, making her hair blow about.

"Vista!" she shouted above the howl of the turbines, "can you give me a closer line of sight to the base of that cloud of dust?"

Vista peered out into the night, bit her lip, then shouted, "Yes, I think I can!" She took a deep breath, held up her hands to frame her obvective, then concentrated.

Peering through the scope of the anti-material rifle, Miss Militia saw the scene leap toward her. With it came the sound of the battle; metallic roars of rage from Hookwolf, and bone-deep impacts, of his opponent's blows landing, smashing metal from his body.

She had never seen the other cape before; bronzed goggles, a tattered long-coat, cargo pants, heavy boots. Basically, a home-made costume. Long black curly hair. Under it all, a skinny teenager; boy or girl, she couldn't tell from this range. But she – Miss Militia decided to go with 'she', given the long hair – was holding her own against Hookwolf, at least for the moment. Home-made costume or no, she was landing blows that might make Alexandria wince.

However, there was nothing wrong with giving her a helping hand.

* * *

Hookwolf was in a full battle rage by now. He raised both arms – newly grown, again – to bring them down on this girl, smash her to the ground. There was a distant crack, a smashing impact; his left arm came off at the shoulder. This left an opening. Not a big one, but an opening all the same.

Taylor saw this, and came around with her hands clasped together in a hammer-punch; it impacted in the centre of Hookwolf's chest. The shockwave of the impact nearly flattened Shadow Stalker, several yards away. Hookwolf flew backward, shedding metal, until he sprawled to the ground, human and thoroughly unconscious.

Taylor sagged to her knees, shedding amps. She threw up, copiously, heaving until everything in her stomach was gone. Shadow Stalker was on her knees beside her, holding her hair out of the way.

"Oh god … oh god …" whimpered Taylor.

"I don't believe you just did that," murmured Sophia. "You just beat the living shit out of Hookwolf."

"I didn't want to fight him," Taylor said, shaking her head. "I didn't want to fight him."

"But you did," said Sophia. "You fought him, for me."

"Well, yeah," said Taylor. "Because you're you."

Sophia kissed her on the cheek. "And you're pretty badass." She looked up at the sound of incoming turbines. "We'd better bail. Can you walk?"

Taylor amped up a little, winced, but got up. "I can manage," she said. "Let's go." Limping just a little, she led the way into the shadows.

* * *

"So," said Armsmaster. "It appears that we have a new cape on the scene."

"And how," agreed Velocity. "Allegiance?"

"Uncertain," said Miss Militia. "I got a visual of her – I think it's a her – leaving the scene with Shadow Stalker, a known vigilante."

"Rating?" asked Dauntless.

"Brute," said Miss Militia with a decisive tone to her voice. "She went toe to toe with Hookwolf, and ended up knocking him cold. Took everything he could dish out, and gave back with more."

"High Brute, then," agreed Armsmaster.

"Course of action?" asked Miss Militia.

"Standard procedure," Armsmaster stated. "We maintain a watch on her public actions, build a profile. If her actions are to the public good, then we offer her a place in the Wards. If she's screwing around, we give her a warning."

Velocity frowned. "If she can take a hit from Hookwolf, much less go toe to toe with him, then she might not be amenable to reason."

Armsmaster patted his halberd. "Then we give her a _very loud_ warning."

* * *

Danny looked up as Sophia helped Taylor stumble in through the door. "Christ!" he exclaimed, bolting up from his chair. "What _happened?"_

Taylor grinned at him as she slumped on to the sofa. She had a few bruises on her face, and thin red lines under some of the tears in her sweater. She carried the tattered coat over one arm. She felt as though she'd been through a hammer-mill. Her hair was full of brick dust.

"We, uh, ran into some trouble," she explained.

"Some trouble?" asked Danny, getting the first aid kit. "Just 'some'?"

Sophia's eyes met Taylor's. "We, uh , ran into some Empire Eighty-Eight," said Sophia reluctantly. "And I got into a little fix, and then Taylor helped me out …"

"And that's how she got hurt?" asked Danny, helping Taylor ease off the sweater.

"No," said Taylor. "That happed when Hookwolf showed up."

"Hookwolf," said Danny flatly.

Sophia nodded. "Yeah, Hookwolf."

Danny looked at her. "What happened after Hookwolf showed up?"

Sophia shrugged. "Oh, nothing much," she said casually. "Taylor beat him up, and then we came home."

Danny's look of utter bogglement was _so_ worth it.

* * *

End of Part Five


	6. Chapter 6

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part Six: Introspection

* * *

Taylor was utterly shattered. She ate the meal Danny had kept back for her, while Sophia had some of the leftovers; by the time she had finished the last bite, she was distinctly drowsy. Danny nagged her into having a shower and dealing with the worst cuts – nothing was really serious, and she wasn't bleeding anywhere – and then told her to go to bed.

* * *

By the time Danny pulled the covers over her , she was fast asleep. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Sleep tight, kiddo," he murmured.

"And to think she didn't want to be a hero," commented Sophia from the doorway.

Danny looked around. "But she stepped up when you needed her to, right?"

She nodded. "Saved _my_ sorry ass." She went to take a step into the bedroom, paused. "Is it okay if I ... kiss her goodnight as well?"

Danny nodded. "Sure," he said. "I don't see why not."

Walking almost silently, she entered the bedroom and leaned over Taylor. "Good night," she whispered, and placed a delicate kiss on Taylor's lips.

Danny, watching, raised an eyebrow. Sophia flushed dark. "I like her," she muttered. "I like her a lot."

"So I see," he said dryly. "And does she like you ... a lot?"

She held off answering until they were out of the bedroom, Danny carefully shutting the door behind them, and halfway down the stairs.

"I think she does, a bit anyway," she said. "We've talked about it, and she hasn't pushed me away."

Danny picked up that she wasn't saying everything, but didn't call her on it.

"I'll give you a lift home," he said. "You've got to be tired out."

"I'll be fine," she said, and he saw the unbending pride that drove her, every hour of every day.

He shook his head. "Taylor would never forgive me if I didn't help you out."

As expected, she caved at the mention of Taylor. "Okay, fine," she said. "But only as far as my corner. Strange car drops me off, there'll be all sorts of questions."

He nodded solemnly. "Sure," he said. "How's the leg, by the way?"

* * *

"It's fine," she said, concealing a wince. Reminded of its existence, her leg had decided to twinge majorly. As had every other bump, bruise, scrape and cut she had suffered on this night.

"Good," he replied, and she looked at him suspiciously. Danny Hebert was not a stupid man, nor unobservant, but he had blandly accepted her statement at face value.

Mentally, she reassessed Taylor's father. There was more to him than met the eye.

* * *

"So," he said, after pulling out of the driveway. "Tell me about Taylor."

She blinked, staring at him. " ... sorry?" she asked.

He smiled, his teeth reflecting the street lights. "Taylor's my daughter, and I love her dearly, but even I can tell that she's changed since the thing happened with the ABB. Getting powers has changed her outlook. I'd appreciate your point of view. How do you see her?"

His voice was quiet, even. Not distracted by the motions of driving, which he had no doubt practised every day for longer than Sophia had been alive. But underneath, there was the same urgency that there had been in his frame when he hugged his daughter, safe home from battle.

_He wants to know how to connect with her again, _she realised. _Even as strong as she can be, as tough as she can be, he wants to protect her._

The realisation came to her as feeling a little alien. Her own father was no longer as close to the family as he might have been. She could see the writing on the wall; he would walk out one day, maybe soon, and never come back.

_Danny would never walk out on Taylor._

"I see her as ... strong. Confident." She thought for a moment. "She doesn't fear physical challenges, not any more. She's less hesitant than when we first met."

"She told you about her mother?"

Sophia nodded. "That really sucks. If I lost my mom ..."

He nodded. "She was hurting for a long time, after that. So was I. We were hardly talking for a while there." His voice was quiet, contemplative. "Then that ... thing, with the ABB."

"Motherfuckers," growled Sophia.

He didn't contradict her. "The realisation that we could have lost each other, that she could have been ..." _Raped. " ... _badly hurt ... it brought us back together. As a family."

It was her turn to nod. "She has nothing but good things to say about you."

He smiled again, faintly. "I'm glad. We never had that phase, you know, where kids are mortally embarrassed by their parents. Never happened." He paused. "How is it with you and your dad? What does he think about you and your powers?"

She shook her head. "He's barely home any more. And I haven't told him. Mom knows, but ... no, I can't tell him. I don't know how he'd even react."

Danny digested that. "A pity. I would much prefer to be there for Taylor. No matter what."

"Me too," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She flushed darkly again, her face heating up.

"Hm," he said, the sound as much a chuckle as a grunt. "So ... question. How serious are you?"

"Serious?" she asked. _About Taylor? What do I say to that?_

He waited for her to continue, then when she didn't, he went on himself. "I guess what I'm asking is, is this just a bit of a crush, or is it ... more? Is it going to go away, or is it going to last?"

The bluntness of the question, out of the blue, floored her. "I ..." she began, then paused, searching for words.

"Because if it's just a temporary thing," he went on, "I'd really rather you make sure she knows about it. Taylor sometimes takes a while to make up her mind on something, but once she decides on it, she pulls out all the stops. And if you're just playing ..."

Silence then, punctuated only by the throb of the engine and the whistle of wind past the windows.

"I'm not," she said hastily. "I'm serious. She's ... out of my experience. I've never felt like this before. I've been attracted to maybe one or two other girls before, but ... she's someone I can respect, who won't back down from me. She'll call me on shit. She _has_ called me on shit."

"Unlike the others," he filled in.

"Unlike the others," she agreed. "They were happy to just let me be in charge, of the relationship, you know? And I thought I was happy with that. But there was something missing. And every time I pushed them, to see if they'd push back, they wouldn't. They'd let me push them around."

"And you need someone who pushes back," noted Danny.

"Right," she said. "No wimps need apply."

He snorted, then said, "Taylor says you have – or had – much the same attitude toward saving people when you're out and about."

She winced. "Yeah," she said in a small voice. "That was one of the things she's called me on. A lot."

"And do you think she has a point?" he asked gently.

She swallowed. "Well, she's not _weak._ She punched that girl over your truck even with a cut on her belly. And tonight, when I was down and in trouble, she took on Hookwolf to save me. Fought him to a standstill, then punched him out."

A deep breath. "I ... she's made me think. Wonder. If someone like her, who doesn't like to fight, could take down Hookwolf when she didn't even need to get into the fight ..." She didn't finish the statement.

Danny nodded. "She put herself in harm's way for you. What does that say about her, to you?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I get what you're saying. I should listen to her more." A frown. "Hookwolf didn't hurt her much, but he tore her coat up pretty good, and put some holes in the rest of her gear. Busted her goggles. Is that fixable?"

* * *

Danny nodded, accepting the change of topic. "Pretty easily, yeah," he told her. "We should be able to get more lenses with no problems. I guess it would be too convenient if whatever it is that's making her tougher extended to her clothing and gear as well."

Sophia frowned. "But it does. Sort of. Her gloves never got touched, and her boots were leaving footprints in concrete."

Danny blinked. "What, really?"

"Yeah, really," she said. "When she's amped up that high, she's kind of scary. It's like she's unstoppable in the literal meaning of the word. If she chooses to put her fist through a brick wall, the brick wall doesn't get a say in the matter."

"A brick wall ... or a person," said Danny slowly.

Sophia nodded. "And that's why she doesn't want to go out as a superhero," she said. "She's scared of doing just that."

"It _is_ a very real responsibility," Danny noted.

"Yeah." Sophia's voice was pensive. "Taylor keeps saying that, too."

Danny nodded, looking pleased, as he pulled the truck to a halt. "This is your corner?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks," she said. "And thanks for the lift. I _was_ kinda beat."

He nodded. "Anytime."

She turned ghostly and faded out through the door of the truck, then turned solid and waved from outside the window of the still-closed door. He waved back, then put the truck into gear.

_She's a bit rough around the edges,_ he mused as he drove back toward his house, _but I think Taylor's being a good influence on her. A good kid at heart._

_Though I can't help but wonder how she would have turned out if she hadn't met Taylor._

_Badly, I suspect._

That was something to think about, on the way back.

* * *

Sophia stole soundlessly across the lawn and then turned ghostly in order to vault skyward and slip in through her bedroom window. She turned solid once inside, and went to stow the bag containing her costume and gear in the closet –

"And what kind of hour is this to be coming home, young lady?"

She spun around, hands up in a defensive gesture, until she recognised her mother, seated in the chair next to her desk. She had been so still that Sophia had not noticed her there, until she had spoken.

"Christ, don't frighten me like that!" she blurted, trying to keep her voice down.

Her mother frowned at the expletive, and stood. "Sophia," she said softly. "It's after three in the morning. I'm worried for your health. I'm worried for what you might meet out there."

She smiled and hugged her mother; she might be a nagging busybody, but she was still Mom, and Sophia still loved her. "It's cool, Mom," she said. "I was out with that other girl I told you about, that cape. Her name's Breaker. She made sure I didn't get in too much trouble."

"And what does that mean, exactly?" asked her mother bluntly.

"Well, we ran into some Empire Eighty-Eight," confessed Sophia. "And when we beat them up, they went away and came back with Hookwolf."

Her mother's eyes went wide. "And what did you do then?"

"Uh ... she beat him up, and the Protectorate took him into custody," explained Sophia.

Her mother's eyes could not have gotten much wider. "Beat him ... up?" she managed.

"Punched the racist motherfucker till he fell down," Sophia said cheerfully.

"Sophia! Language!" snapped her mother, but her heart wasn't in it. She paused. "She knocked down ... _Hookwolf?_ I didn't know that was even possible."

Sophia shrugged. "I didn't either. I just wanted to get away. It didn't turn out that way.". She sat down on the bed with a muted groan. "I took a couple of hits too. Give me a hand here?"

"Only if you tell me the rest of the story," said her mother, closing the door and turning on the light. "I want to hear all about this Breaker girl, and how she punched out Hookwolf."

"Okay, Mom," Sophia agreed with a grin. She fetched the first-ad kit out from undef the bed and handed it to her mother, then started to pull her top off. "Well the first thing is, you'd never know that she's as strong as she is. She's so skinny ..."

* * *

Taylor stirred and rolled over in bed. It was so soft and comfortable; she didn't want to have to move. But biological imperatives had to be met, and so she pushed back the covers and rolled out of bed.

"Ow," she groaned. "Ow, ow, ow, ow." With every movement, every flexing of her body, a muscle or a joint complained. With a gait more appropriate to an aged chimpanzee than an adolescent human, she made her way to the bathroom and did what needed to be done.

By the time she got back to the bedroom, she was starting to move more like a member of the human race. Delicious odours wafted up from downstairs, as her father cooked breakfast.

_Oh god, that smells good._

* * *

He looked up as she stumbled into the kitchen, still in her pyjamas, looking more than a little like something the cat might leave on the back step.

"Morning, kiddo," he said cheerfully, flipping a pancake without looking.

"Morning, Dad," she mumbled, taking the jug of orange juice from the fridge and pouring herself a large glass full.

"How are we feeling this morning?" he asked with a grin.

She must have realised he was teasing her, because she stuck her tongue out at him. Then she drank the orange juice.

"All I can say is," she said once she finished, "I just hope Hookwolf is feeling worse."

"He got taken down hard by a thirteen year old girl," Danny commented. "I'd be astonished if he _wasn't."_

She crossed her arms and laid her head down on them. "He probably doesn't realise that," she murmured. "Probably figures I'm six foot six and built like Armsmaster."

"Hey now, no going to sleep at the table," he warned her. "Go shower or something. Go take a run. Wake yourself up. Remember, school starts again tomorrow."

"Urgh," she mumbled. "I did not need that reminder."

Grudgingly, she got up from the table and headed upstairs. Soon, he heard the shower running.

* * *

Taylor gasped at the sting of the water on her skin; it seemed to her that every inch of her body was bruised, or almost so. Tiny scabbed cuts here and there reminded her of the ferocity of Hookwolf's assaults, and she marvelled again at the ability of her powers to help her withstand such damage.

She tried cataloguing the pulled muscles, the aching joints, the sore areas. But soon she gave up, and instead did her best to work out what parts of her _didn't_ hurt. There weren't many of these. She was fairly certain her left earlobe hadn't taken a hit, but there weren't many other places on her body that had been left unscathed.

Slowly and carefully, she washed herself, being careful with the scrapes and cuts. She winced, but made sure that they were clean. The hot water gradually unkinked her muscles, so by the time she stepped out of the tub, she was feeling almost human.

* * *

Danny watched her enter the kitchen a second time; this time, she was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and didn't wince every time she moved. He placed pancakes before her, and she grinned up at him.

"Thanks, Dad," she said. "I probably would've fallen asleep with my face in my food if I hadn't had that shower."

He nodded and ruffled her hair. "We couldn't have that," he agreed. He paused. "Was it very ... bad? I got a little of the explanation from you and Sophia last night, but I couldn't help feeling that you were leaving out some of the details, so as to spare your dear old Dad."

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, Dad," she said. "It wasn't fun. It wasn't a _nice_ battle, like you see on the Saturday morning cartoons. No clever quips, no honourable enemies. Just some gang members who wanted to rob some innocent folk, and who wanted to hurt and kill Sophia because of her skin colour. And Hookwolf ..." She shuddered.

"That bad, huh?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "He just wanted to ... _kill_ me. No quarter, no calling it a draw. He was going all-out to end me. Because I got in his way, made him look bad."

He got up from his seat, went around to her side of the table, hugged her. She hugged him back. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"Well until I can get a replacement coat and goggles, I won't be going out again," she said. "Give me a couple of days, the cuts and bruises should be good." She paused. "Tomorrow is school start. I might wear long sleeves, otherwise people might see the bruises and wonder."

Danny shrugged. "Tell 'em you got in a fight."

She nodded. "Well, that much is true." Another pause. "And oh God, Sophia's probably going to tell Emma that I was fighting half the capes in Empire Eighty-Eight, all at once."

"Hm," commented Danny. "She did seem very ... impressed by you. Exceedingly so."

Taylor shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I _did_ kind of save her life," she pointed out.

"That will usually do it," he agreed with a nod, then paused. "So ... have you come to a decision yet?"

"What about?" she asked with a guilty start. _Does he know about me and Sophia?_

"Whether you're going to be a superhero or not," he said.

_Phew._ "Still deciding," she said honestly. "It's not something I want to jump into lightly. I mean, I've got the powers, but I barely know how and why they work. Or why it's uncomfortable to use them too much, or for too long."

"I can understand that," he agreed. He paused, waiting until she had finished the glass of orange juice and was about to put it down, before casually adding, "So when are you going on a date with Sophia? She seems pretty serious about you."

He had judged it to a nicety; she didn't inhale the juice into her lungs, or spray it over the table. She just froze for a telling moment, then put her glass down. "Soon, I think," she said, trying to match his casual attitude. "I'm still making up my mind about how I feel about her."

"It's not fair to make her wait too long for a yes ... or a no," he warned her. "I'm sure she would be happy being just friends, if you told her you weren't interested."

She nodded. "I've told her that I'm willing to go on a date with her, but that she's not to get too grabby with me."

He nodded approval. "Good," he said. "I get the impression that she doesn't listen much to what other people say, and this could get her in trouble. With your influence, she may just straighten up and fly right."

"Great," she grumbled. "Now I'm the moral compass to a superhero."

"There _are_ worse things to be," he pointed out.

And she could not help but agree.

* * *

End of Part Six


	7. Chapter 7

**Shadow Stalker - Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part 7 – the Date, Part 1

* * *

The phone rang. Danny muted the TV, got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen.

"Hebert residence, Danny speaking."

_"Hi, Mr Hebert. This is Sophia."_

"Hello, Sophia," he replied. "It's nice to hear from you again. Are you looking for Taylor?"

_"Yes, please," _Sophia answered. _"Can you put her on, please?"_

_Damn, _thought Danny. _Saying 'please' twice in a row. She really wants to talk to Taylor._

"Sorry," he told her, "she's out on her run at the moment. She should be back any moment, though. Would you like me to ask her to call back?"

"_Uh, sure,"_ blurted Sophia. _"That would be great, thanks."_

Danny grinned. "I'll do that, then," he told her. "Talk to you later."

Hanging up, he went back to the sofa.

_I always knew I'd be doing this someday for Taylor, _he mused. _But somehow I thought it would be a boy calling up to talk to her._ He grinned again. _It's still very funny. I suspect I'm enjoying this more than I should._

Still grinning, he sat back on the sofa and turned up the sound again.

* * *

Taylor stumbled on the home stretch. Her body was hurting all over, partly from the aftermath of the fight, and partly from the exertion of the run. Every ache, pain, abrasion and cut that had been soothed by the shower was now making itself known again.

Grimly, she rallied. Only a block to go. _If I'm going to use my powers properly, I need to be in shape._

It was so tempting to cut in some amp, to draw strength from whatever well her powers came from, to make this easier on herself. But she didn't; she carried on regardless. Sweating, panting, stumbling, she made her way in through the chain-link gate at the side of the house and up the back steps.

* * *

Danny heard her come in, and got up off the sofa.

"Christ, kiddo," he said, as she paused at the fridge to pour some cold water into a cup and gulp it down, "you look like hell. I've seen buddies on the morning after a hard night of drinking in better shape than you."

She put the water back and grinned at him. "Yeah," she said, "I feel like crap, too. But I made it. And if I can make it after what happened last night, I can make it any time. Now, I think, it's time for my second shower of the day. If I'm not out in half an hour, call the paramedics."

She stumbled up the stairs; in a few moments, he heard the shower running.

_Should I have told her that Sophia rang?_ he wondered. _Nah, let her freshen up first._

* * *

She wandered downstairs in T-shirt and jeans about twenty minutes later, looking much refreshed. He had spent the intervening time wisely; there was a pitcher of fruit juice with ice cubes in it, perched on the ottoman in front of the sofa.

"Ooh, thanks, Dad," she said happily, and retrieved a glass from the kitchen. Sitting down beside him, she poured herself some juice, and drank it down. "Oh, that's nice."

He nodded. "That _was_ the idea." A pause. "Just by the by, you got a phone call while you were out. Sophia wants to talk to you, apparently."

She stared at him. "And you didn't tell me till _now?"_

He shrugged slightly. "Would you have taken the time to relax and recover from your run if you'd known? Now you're all refreshed and …" But he was talking to her back; she was already heading into the kitchen.

* * *

Sophia's mobile rang. She grabbed for it, saw the name _Hebert_ on the display.

"Hello?"

"_Hey, Soph,"_ she heard Taylor's voice. _"Sorry it took me so long to call you back. Dad only told me after I got out of the shower."_

"It's okay," said Sophia. "I don't mind, really." In her mind, she conjured an image of Taylor in the shower. Then she conjured an image of her _and_ Taylor in the shower. It was so compelling that she missed what Taylor said next.

"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, embarrassed.

Taylor chuckled. _"I was just asking you why you were calling me. You want to talk, to hang out, to go do something? I won't be able to go out as Breaker until Dad can get me new costume bits, and new lenses for my goggles."_

"I, uh," said Sophia, "wanted to ask you if you wanted to do that date."

"_Date?"_ asked Taylor. _"Oh yeah, the date. Cool. We can do that. When did you want to do it?"_ She paused. _"Probably not tonight. School tomorrow."_

"How about today?" asked Sophia. "Uh, the movies or something?" _People go to the movies on dates, right? _She had some idea that they did.

"_Sure, we could do the movies,"_ agreed Taylor. Sophia heard her put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, and her voice could be faintly heard calling to her father.

* * *

"Dad," said Taylor, hand over the mouthpiece and leaning out of the kitchen, "is it okay if I go to the movies with Sophia?"

Danny considered this. "Not going to be out too late?" he asked.

"No, I think she means a midday or afternoon show," said Taylor. "Wait a minute, I'll ask."

* * *

"_When were you thinking of going?"_ asked Taylor abruptly in her ear.

"Um, whenever you wanted," said Sophia.

"_So a midday or afternoon show would be good with you?"_ Taylor clarified.

"Sure, that'd be great," Sophia replied, grinning all over her face. "That would be awesome."

"_Did you want to get your dad to pick me up, or should I get my dad to pick you up?"_ asked Taylor practically.

Sophia considered the options. It was Sunday; her father was probably already at the bar, drinking. So he would have taken the car. She leaned up to her bedroom window, looked out at the driveway. _Yup, car's gone._

"Um, if your dad could bring you to pick me up, that would be awesome," she said hesitantly. "I really hate to ask you to do this for me …"

Taylor chuckled. _"I don't think it'll be a problem. I think he likes you. Wait a second."_

* * *

"Uh, Dad?" she asked, leaning around the doorway again.

He knew what she was going to ask, but decided to let her sweat. "Yes, Taylor?"

"Is it okay if you take me and Soph to the movies? That is, drop us off? She wants to do a daytime show."

He rubbed his chin, pretended to think. "I _suppose,"_ he allowed. "Heck, I might come along too. It's been a while since I've been to the movies."

She giggled. "That's _mean,_ Dad. Sophia probably wants to hold hands or something, and if you're there, she'll be too embarrassed."

"And you?" he asked.

"And me what?" she responded.

"Do you want to hold hands with Sophia?"

She grinned at him. "Maybe."

He chuckled. "Sure, okay. I can be your taxi. Just give me a ring when you want a lift back, okay?"

She nodded vigorously. "Sure, thanks, Dad."

* * *

This side conversation was going on so long, Sophia began to wonder if Taylor was arguing with her father. But then she came back on the line.

"_Still there, Soph?"_ she asked.

"Still here," Sophia agreed. "What's the verdict?"

"_Dad says okay to the date, and he'll bring me around to pick you up,"_ Taylor told her. _"When do you want us there by?"_

"Um, midday?" asked Sophia. She desperately wanted to name an earlier time, but she didn't want to push matters.

"_We can do midday,"_ agreed Taylor. _"See you then."_

"Sure," agreed Sophia. "See you then."

She carefully ended the call, then leaped off of her bed and did a little victory dance of pure joy.

_I'm going on a date. With Taylor._

_My life is complete._

* * *

"Uh … Mom?" she said, about twenty minutes later.

Her mother looked up from where she was reading the paper on the sofa. Terry was on the other end of the sofa with their baby sister on his lap, tickling her so that she giggled.

"Yes, Sophia?" asked her mother.

"I've, uh, made a date to go out with a friend of mine, Taylor. Her dad will be driving us to the movies around midday. Uh … that's okay, isn't it?"

Terry's head swivelled around. Sophia could see the look of pure glee spreading across his face. _Oh boy,_ she thought. _Here it comes._

"Taylor?" asked her mother, putting the paper down. "Do I know her?"

Sophia shook her head. "I met her awhile ago," she said, for Terry's sake. "I was telling you about her last night, remember?"

Her mother looked blank for a moment, then memory sparked. "Ah," she said. "_That_ Taylor."

Sophia nodded. "That's okay, isn't it?" she reiterated.

"So long as you're home by six," she was told. "School starts tomorrow, so no staying out late." _Even for your cape stuff, _ her mother didn't add.

"Sure, Mom," she agreed readily.

"So, Soph," said Terry cheerfully. "_That_ Taylor, huh? Someone special, huh? New girlfriend?"

"Shut up," she retorted, her cheeks flushing dark. "None of your business, dipweed."

He grinned at her. "Does she know how fast you've gone through your previous ones?"

"Shut up," she reiterated, flushing even more. "Mom, make him leave me alone."

"Leave Sophia alone, Terry," her mother said mildly, picking up the paper again.

"Does she even know how many girlfriends you've _had?"_ he asked. He wasn't a bad guy, really, but he did like to needle her about her girlfriends.

"Shut _up!"_ she said, a little more sharply than she intended. Her baby sister stopped chortling and began to whimper. "Oh, sorry," she said hurriedly. "I didn't mean to shout."

"You're a bad, bad person, Sophia Hess," Terry teased her, even as he soothed the infant again. "You go through girlfriends like wildfire, and you frighten babies."

"I do not," she replied, finding that it was hard to say something with emphasis while still keeping it quiet. "I've only had three girlfriends."

"And all in your last semester of middle school, for shame," Terry grinned.

"More than you've had in the last three years," she shot back, then darted upstairs to start getting ready. She wanted to look just right for Taylor.

* * *

"Do I look all right?" asked Taylor nervously.

Danny turned to watch her descend the stairs. "You're wearing a dress," he observed bemusedly.

"What if I am?" she said defensively. "I want to look nice."

"Just saying, you can look nice in jeans," he pointed out. "It's just that … I've rarely seen you willingly put on a dress. Kind of a first."

"So you don't think it looks all right?" she asked, biting her lip.

He chuckled. "Kiddo, I think you look gorgeous. But aren't you overthinking this a bit? I thought you weren't as interested in Sophia as she is in you."

She nodded. "Yeah, but … I don't want her thinking I'm _not_ interested in her, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So you do like her, then?"

She nodded, flushing pink. "Yeah. I like her. I like being with her. Sometimes she drops that hard exterior and I get to see the nice girl underneath, and I really, really like that girl."

It was his turn to nod judiciously. "And you think that girl is coming out more often?"

Her answer was prompt and earnest. "Oh yeah," she agreed. "Sophia's just got to learn to … well, let go."

"Sounds about right," agreed Danny. "What time do you want to be going?"

"About half past eleven?" hazarded Taylor. "But is my dress really okay?"

"Taylor, honey," said Danny. "Take it from me, you look as pretty as a picture."

She smiled; it was like the sun coming out. He hadn't seen that smile for the last year, ever since Anne-Rose had died, but it was starting to come out more and more, ever since they had met Sophia on that muggy afternoon.

He would not have picked them for potential friends, much less girlfriends, but then, he mused, it took all kinds to make a world. And if it took Sophia courting her to bring light back into her life, then he was all for it.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, then paused. "Should I put on makeup?"

He chuckled. "Kiddo, neither one of us has the faintest idea of how to do makeup properly, and Sophia's seen your face a thousand times without makeup anyway. I think she'll be surprised enough to see you in a dress."

She nodded. "Thanks. That makes sense." She ran up the stairs again, leaving him bemused on the sofa once more.

_My little girl's first date,_ he realised. _Who knew. Somehow I always thought she'd be bringing boys home. Not girls. And especially not girls who go out and beat people up._

He shrugged. _Ah well. It takes all kinds to make a world. And Sophia is starting to show promise. I can't fault her on her choices._

* * *

Sophia was dressed and ready at half past eleven. At eleven forty-five, she ventured downstairs.

Her mother had gone out for groceries, but Terry was still there, watching TV. He frankly stared at her.

"Holy crap, sis," he said. "You going to the prom or something?"

She flushed dark again. "I'm allowed to look nice," she retorted.

"Yeah," he said, "but there's looking nice, and then there's getting done up to the nines." He leaned forward on the sofa, peering at her. "You've got _makeup_ on."

"Oh, shut up," she said. "Leave me alone."

"Wow," he said, leaning back again. "I was right. This Taylor's someone special, isn't she? I don't recall you getting this dressed up for any of your other girlfriends."

"Maybe she is," she muttered. "None of your business."

"Damn," he said, running his hands through his hair. "Now I want to meet her. See who this paragon is who can make my sister actually get dressed up for a date."

"Don't you dare say a thing to her," she snapped. "Taylor's a _nice_ girl. None of your stupid jokes. I like her a lot. I don't want you ruining it for me."

"Would I do a thing like that?" asked Terry, acting wounded.

"Yes, you would," she snapped. "In a hot New York minute."

He grinned. "Maybe." Then he paused. "So have you pounced on her in the bathroom yet? I seem to recall that was your signature move. I certainly heard about it from your exes."

"Terry!" she protested, cheeks flushing darker than ever.

"Well, have you?" he pressed.

" ... tried to," she admitted.

"And?" he urged. "C'mon, juicy details."

"She wouldn't let me," she admitted in a small voice.

"And you didn't just monster her anyway?" he asked.

She wrinkled her nose at him, then looked away. "She's stronger than she looks."

He raised an eyebrow. "So are you."

She shook her head. "I'm not getting into this with you, Terry. She's not my girlfriend, not yet. But we're getting there. And I don't want you spoiling it for me."

"Wow," he said. "The infamous Sophia Hess, tamed at last. I have _got_ to meet this girl."

He chuckled as she gave him the finger.

"Screw you," she said without heat. "Say one thing – _one thing_ – to spoil things for me, and I swear, I will make your life a living hell. Every date you go out with is going to find out about your visits to the VD clinic and your liking for small furry animals and duct tape."

"But I don't –" he began.

"Nope," she agreed. "But I can plant evidence. We can go there, if you like. Just screw me over with Taylor just _once."_

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I give. But I do want to meet her. Make sure her intentions toward my little sister are totally honourable."

"Trust me," she sighed, "they are."_ Even if I don't want them to be._

* * *

Sophia jumped up at the knock on the door. But Terry was there first. Even as she made for the door, he opened it.

"Hi," he said to the girl who stood on the doorstep. "Would you be Taylor?"

The girl blinked behind her large round-lensed glasses. She wore a brightly-coloured sundress which set off her figure, such as it was. Her dark curly hair was fixed back with a sky-blue headband. She was a bit taller than Sophia, but then, the runt had some growing to do.

"Uh, yes, that's me," she ventured. "You would be Terry?"

"The one and only," he greeted her. "Pleased to meet you." He offered his hand.

* * *

Taylor accepted his hand, and shook. She felt him applying a little pressure, just testing, so she applied pressure right back. He applied more. She added a level of amp, and squeezed. He winced, and didn't push it any more.

"Wow," he said. "Sophia said you were stronger than you looked. She wasn't kidding."

"I work out," she said blandly.

And then Terry was gone, shoved to one side, and Sophia was standing there, looking just a little flustered.

"Wow," said Taylor. "You're wearing a dress. I've never seen you in a dress."

"Is it bad?" asked Sophia. "Should I change?"

"No, no," Taylor assured her. "You look ..."

_Sexy. Awesome. Cute. Like someone I really want to go out with. Like the Sophia under the hard exterior, who I want to know better._

"... really nice," she concluded.

"So do you," responded Sophia. "I mean, really, really nice." She paused. "Not that you don't look really nice all the time, but ..." She trailed off, blushing dark.

Taylor smiled. "Thanks," she said. "Shall we go?"

"Mom's down at the shops," interjected Terry. "She wanted to meet you," he added over Sophia's shoulder, to Taylor.

"She can meet her when Taylor and her dad drop me off from the date," said Sophia. "Yes, we can go. Please."

Taylor reached out and took her hand, and they walked down the path to the front gate. Danny was waiting alongside the truck, and as they stepped on to the pavement, he opened the door with a flourish that almost ended in a bow.

"Miladies," he said with a grin. "Your pumpkin carriage awaits. More pumpkin than carriage, I'm afraid."

Sophia giggled. She noted that the trash had been cleaned out of the footwell, and the seat appeared to have been wiped down. "Thank you," she said, and allowed Danny to hand her into the vehicle.

Taylor turned and waved at the door. "By, Terry," she called. "I'll bring her back safe and sound."

He waved back. "You better," he replied with a grin.

Taylor chuckled and climbed in after Sophia, and Danny helped her shut the door without catching her dress in it.

"Skirts are way too much trouble," observed Sophia.

"I know, right?" agreed Taylor. "Why did you wear one?"

"Because I wanted to look nice for the date," said Sophia, shyly.

Taylor leaned in and kissed her very lightly on the lips. "You do," she said softly. "You really do."

Sophia sighed and leaned against Taylor. "So do you," she murmured.

Danny climbed in to the driver's seat. "Now, now, no making out in the car," he said mildly. "Wait till you get to the theatre."

Taylor choked with laughter. _"What_ did you say?" she asked.

"You heard," he replied with a grin, and started the truck.

* * *

He dropped them off outside the cinema. "Now, you've got money for tickets and snacks?" he asked.

"Yes, Dad," said Taylor. "Sophia?"

Sophia nodded. "Mom gave me an advance on my allowance."

"And Sophia, you've got your mobile so you can call when you need me to pick you up?" he asked next.

Sophia nodded. "I do," she confirmed.

"And what's your curfew?" he asked.

"Six," she told him.

"So call no later than five fifteen, so I got time to get to you, and get you home, okay?" he said seriously. "I don't want you getting in trouble because I'm late getting you home."

She nodded. "I can do that. Thanks, Mr Hebert."

He nodded. "You two have fun."

"Thanks, Dad," said Taylor cheerfully. "We will." She shut the door and watched as the truck pulled into traffic and drove away.

* * *

Turning to face Sophia, she was surprised when the shorter girl grabbed her in a hug.

She returned the hug, holding Sophia closely. It felt nice.

"Not that I don't like this," she ventured, "but what's this about?"

"Thank you for coming on this date," whispered Sophia. "Even if the movie's terrible, even if everything goes wrong from here on, I'm just glad we're here."

Taylor smiled down at Sophia. "Hey," she said softly. "I'm glad to be here with you too. And it's gonna be a great date. Because it's you and me. And nothing _ever_ goes wrong when we go out."

Sophia snorted with amusement, then Taylor tilted her chin up and kissed her, just once, lightly, on the lips. Sophia shivered and closed her eyes, melting into Taylor's arms.

Taylor held her for a few moments, uncaring of the people who were walking past, some giving them amused looks. Then she disengaged from the hug and took Sophia by the hand.

"Come on," she said, "let's go to the movies."

Hand in hand, they entered the cinema.

* * *

End of Part Seven


	8. Chapter 8

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Chapter Eight - The Date, Part Two

* * *

Each girl got a large cup of soda; Taylor got Coke, while Sophia got Mountain Dew. Taylor bought a large box of popcorn to share, while Sophia picked herself up some beef jerky. Taylor hadn't even known that they _had_ beef jerky.

"We've got popcorn," she said, as they lined up for the movie tickets. "Why beef jerky?"

"I like it," Sophia told her defensively. "It's a thing. I take it out and about," she meant _on my patrols_, Taylor knew, but didn't want to say it out loud, "and I've gotten used to it."

"Wow," said Taylor. "I've tried it about once, when we went camping. I chewed on it for like an hour and I don't think I made an impression."

Sophia snorted. "Meanwhile now, you could probably bite a piece in half on your first try, if you work at it."

_If I used some amp, you mean. _ Taylor grinned. "Probably." She took a deep breath. "It's so good to see you again. I mean, I only saw you last night, but I wasn't expecting to see you today, and I was so tired after I came back from my run that I was thinking of having a nap, and then Dad said you'd called –"

Her enthusiasm was so infectious that Sophia had to grin. "Whoa, whoa," she said. "Back it up. We're not even in the theatre yet. What movie do you want to see?"

Taylor reined herself in a little. She scanned the rolling display, and her eyes lit on one. "That new one from Earth Aleph. Avatar. It looks pretty cool, don't you think?"

Sophia tilted her hand back and forth slightly. "Eh. Not overly sold on it. Big blue people with tails? Sounds like someone who got a bad batch of powers, to me."

Taylor sighed. "I'll let you sit on my lap."

"Deal!" agreed Sophia, so quickly that Taylor glanced at her suspiciously.

"Were you just holding out for a concession from me?" she asked, just a little dubiously.

Sophia raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Mayyyybe," she said, pretending to be evasive, even as she grinned broadly.

Taylor shook her head. "One of these days, I'll realise what you're doing before you do it, and then where will you be?"

"Thinking up a new strategy, of course," Sophia retorted cheerfully.

Taylor shook her head fondly. "You are so, so bad."

Sophia leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I'm a bad, bad girl," she whispered throatily. "You should hold me down and spank me."

The other people in the line wondered why Taylor was doubled over with laughter as she got to the head of the line.

* * *

She was still giggling as they entered the theatre proper. Sophia was looking a little put out. "It wasn't _that_ funny," she said defensively.

"Yes,' said Taylor firmly. "Yes, it was."

The argument was temporarily put on hold as they chose where to sit.

"Up the back," Sophia said. "Come on, the back corner's unoccupied."

Taylor gave her an old-fashioned look she'd seen her father use. "This is so we can make out, isn't it?" she said severely.

Sophia did her best to look innocent. "It doesn't have to be?" she ventured.

"Uh huh," retorted Taylor with a nod. "I _thought_ so.". She steered Sophia down the aisle, until they reached a seat more or less in the middle of the cinema. "I let you manoeuvre me into letting you sit on my lap. That's all you get; I actually want to _see_ the movie."

Sophia looked so downcast that Taylor added, "Okay, _fine_. Every time there's an on-screen kiss, you can kiss me, all right?"

Sophia brightened right up as they settled on to their seat, arranging their respective skirts. "So," she said as they got comfortable. "What's so funny about you spanking me? Doesn't the idea turn you on at all?"

"It's not that," Taylor said. "Look, if you had me over your lap, you'd smack my ass just as hard as you could, right?"

"Sure," replied Sophia, imagining doing just that to Taylor. "It's all part of the fun." She eyed Taylor speculatively. "Do you _want_ me to do that?"

Taylor didn't seem to have heard the question. "Now, imagine what would happen to you if _I_ smacked _your_ ass as hard as I could."

Sophia thought about that. "Oh," she said. "Oh, yeah. Ew." She tilted her head. "But I still don't get what's so funny."

Taylor smirked. "I had a mental image of me with you over my lap, amped all the way up and just barely patting your ass with my hand. Like this." She captured one of Sophia's hands, and tapped it almost feather-light with the flat of her hand. "It just seemed like a silly image to me."

"Yeah, it does seem a little silly," agreed Sophia. She looked at Taylor. "So I guess spanking is out. Darn it." She paused. "Unless you _like_ the idea of me spanking you ..."

Taylor said nothing, her eyes fixed on the advertisements rolling across the screen, but a slow blush mounted her cheeks. Sophia grinned wickedly and snuggled into her embrace.

* * *

"That actually wasn't too bad," Sophia said grudgingly as they exited the cinema together.

"Not too bad? Which movie were _you_ watching?" asked Taylor rhetorically. "It was _awesome_, with those dragon things, and the floating mountains, and the rest of it."

" ... could have done with more kissing, is all I'm saying," maintained Sophia.

Taylor giggled, and gave her friend a light slap on the shoulder. "Oh, you! Is that _all_ you think about?"

"When I'm with you, most times, yes," admitted Sophia.

"Even when I'm doing the 'Rarr Hulk smash' thing?" asked Taylor. "Because that doesn't strike me as being a romantic moment _at all."_

"Well, that's when I'm feeling both terrified and turned on, all at the same time," admitted Sophia. "When you're amped up, it's like you're a force of nature. Nothing can stand in your way. You're like the ultimate predator."

Taylor stopped, so suddenly that Sophia took a couple more steps before realising, and turned around to come back. "What?" she asked. "What's the matter?"

"It's back to that, is it?" asked Taylor sadly. "Is that why you're attracted to me? Because I'm like a predator to you? Is that why you like me so much, and want to be my friend? Because I typify your _stupid fucking predator ideal?"_

"I – no!" said Sophia. "No, it's not like that. I didn't mean it like that."

"How _did_ you mean it?" asked Taylor. "I thought you were getting better. I thought you were over that shit. That you liked me for _me."_

Sophia sighed. "I _do_ like you for you. You're funny and bubbly and sexy –"

Taylor snorted. "Yeah, right. Like a broomstick. Or an ironing board."

"It's true!" protested Sophia. _"Yes,_ you being so strong and powerful has a bit to do with it, but most of it's you. All you. When I look at your face, when I see your smile, when you let me kiss you, I go weak at the knees."

Taylor's lips tightened. "And when I throw a dumpster, or jump a hundred feet from one rooftop to another, does that make you go weak at the knees too?"

Sophia's eyes dropped. "Maybe," she admitted in a small voice.

"So the part of me that I'm most concerned about, the part I have to keep under the strictest control, that's one of the parts that you're most attracted to, is that it?" asked Taylor quietly.

Sophia was conflicted. "Maybe?" she as much asked as admitted.

"Is that a yes or a no, or a 'yes but I don't want to admit it'?" pressed Taylor.

"What do you want me to say?" asked Sophia plaintively. "Yes, that part of you attracts me. It's who I am. I want to get close to you. I want to share in the power."

Taylor shook her head. "I don't believe this," she said. "I thought you'd changed. I thought you were different now. But you're still all about the power, the violence, the predator and prey thing. How can I believe anything you say any more?"

"But I'm not _lying_ to you," protested Sophia desperately. "I'm _telling_ you how I feel."

Taylor stopped, and took Sophia by the hand. She led the shorter girl into an alcove, where they were off the street and out of view. "Sophia," she said quietly. "I do like you. Quite a lot, in fact. But this … this power thing? This predator-prey thing? It's not me. I don't like it. I don't like that part of you. The Shadow Stalker part, the bit that's got to be the top predator in the heap."

"But I'm _always _Shadow Stalker," protested Sophia. "That's _always_ me."

Taylor shook her head. "No, Sophia," she said. "No, you're not. Sometimes you're just plain Sophia, a teenage girl having fun, pretty and sexy and someone I want to kiss and cuddle with. I _don't_ want to kiss and cuddle with Shadow Stalker."

"But what's the difference?" asked Sophia plaintively. _"I _can't tell the difference."

"The difference," said Taylor quietly, "is that I might be falling in love with Sophia Hess, but I can't love Shadow Stalker. Shadow Stalker would have let me get raped. You tell me how I'm supposed to feel about that."

"But I said I was sorry," Sophia told her, her voice breaking. "I've _said_ I was sorry. How many times do I have to say it?"

"Until you no longer have to say it, because we both know you mean it all the way through, that there's no part left in you of the person who would let someone get beat up or raped or murdered just because they're too scared to fight back." Taylor's voice was distant.

"If I hadn't fought back," she went on, "I would have been raped. If I hadn't triggered … I would have _died._ For fighting back. Because you held back to see what I would do. And if there's still a part of you that would do that again … I can't love that part. I can't abide that part. I can't be with that part."

Sophia was still trying to formulate her response, when she found herself gripped in Taylor's arms. She looked up at the taller girl, bewildered, yet intoxicated by her close proximity.

"Sophia," whispered Taylor, "you need to decide whether you want me more like this …" she deposited a gentle kiss on Sophia's lips, sending a thrill through her mind and a rush of warmth through her body, "or like this."

Her grip tightened, and Sophia recognised the signs of Taylor amping herself up. She struggled for a moment, uselessly; she may as well have tried to escape the grip of steel bands. Taylor looked down at Sophia, her posture stiff, her body almost rigid, her flesh like stone. Then she kissed her.

The kiss was forceful, demanding. There was power behind it, Taylor's soft-looking lips giving not in the slightest, crushing and bruising Sophia's lips. She was helpless in Taylor's arms; with the slightest squeeze of her arms, the other girl could snap her spine, kill her without effort.

That fact, shamefully, turned her on more than anything else. She was Taylor's plaything, entirely at her mercy. Whatever Taylor wished to do with her, she could do. She closed her eyes, giving herself entirely over to Taylor's mastery of her.

When Taylor ended the kiss and released her, Sophia was so overcome that she fell to her knees, gasping. Taylor looked down at her, still amped up.

"Have you changed at all, Sophia?" she asked, her voice the grating multiple-toned sound that bespoke of high amp, but still managing to register sadness. "Have you even _tried?"_

Sophia couldn't answer; after that kiss, that earth-shattering, mind-blasting kiss, she was in no shape to think coherently, let along talk. The blood roared in her ears; she felt the bruises forming on her body, on her lips, where Taylor had held her in all her power, and kissed her. Could have done much more with her.

If she had tried, Sophia would have been helpless to stop her. Would not have even wanted to. She wanted to feel Taylor's hands, crackling with the power of amp, on her body. Had the dark shameful urge to be at Taylor's mercy, a mouse to her cat, as so many others had been the same to her …

Her head cleared. She looked up.

Taylor was gone.

* * *

Taylor stood atop the building and watched Sophia search frantically for her. Tears slid unheeded down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Sophia," she said out loud. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She turned and started away across the rooftop. Within three strides, she was running. When she reached the edge of the roof, she leaped, without hesitation.

Three rooftops away, she descended to ground level via the fire escape. She had no desire to drop four storeys, and reveal to all and sundry the exact colour of her underwear. _This is why fliers don't wear skirts._

It took two more blocks before she found a working pay phone. She was now crying so hard she could barely see; she fumbled coins into the slot and dialled the number.

* * *

Danny Hebert frowned as the phone rang. It was barely three. _Their date couldn't have ended this quickly._

He picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"_Dad," _he heard Taylor's voice, sobbing. _"Come pick me up. Please."_

"What's happened? Are you all right?" he asked.

"_I'm okay. Just please, pick me up."_ She gulped and started to cry again.

"Okay, I'm on the way. Where are you?"

She gave him an address. A street corner. Blocks away from the movie theatre. In the bad part of town.

_What's she doing __**there?**_

He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. As he reached it, the phone rang again.

Sighing, he went back and answered it.

"Hello?"

"_Mr Hebert?"_

"Sophia?" he asked, honestly surprised. "Aren't you with Taylor?"

"_No,"_ she said. _"I don't know where she is. We had an argument and she left. I haven't been able to find her."_

"Well, I just got a phone call from her," he said. "She sounded really upset. Wanted me to pick her up."

"_Shit,"_ said Sophia. _"Where is she?"_

Danny gave her the address, then dashed outside. Moments later, he was pulling away from the curb.

* * *

Sophia found Taylor easily enough. She was still half a block away, and she could hear the sound of metal tearing. _What's going on?_

As she got closer, she saw. Taylor was sitting on the curb, still crying, unmindful of the grime on the back of her dress. Several extremely rough-looking customers were eyeing her very warily; this was perhaps due to the fact that she had a metal trash can lid in her hands, and she was tearing pieces off to wipe her eyes with.

Sophia had no idea how hard Taylor was amping, but she could recognise a dangerous situation when she saw it. Right now, despite all her protestations to the contrary, Taylor was in full fight-or-flight mode right now. She wasn't thinking civilised. She wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone if she decided that was the right course of action.

So Sophia stopped a healthy distance away, and said, "Hey."

Taylor didn't respond; she tore off a rough square of metal with a discordant shriek, and blew her nose with it. Crumpling it up, she threw it across the street, where it hit a brick wall and embedded itself there.

Her audience decided to take a few steps back.

Sophia, on the other hand, moved forward.

"Hey," she said, a little more loudly.

Taylor looked around. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. _Wow, her father was right. She looks really upset._

"What."

Her voice was totally uninflected, and had a heavy multiple-voice overlay. She was seriously amped. _As if I couldn't tell by the fact that she's using galvanised iron like tissue paper._

Sophia wasn't good at diplomacy. She either got what she wanted, or went around the rules somehow, and got what she wanted anyway. She wasn't good at _persuasion._

"Is it okay if I … you know, sit?" she asked. "So we can … talk?"

Taylor made a half-shrug, expressing supreme disinterest in anything Sophia said or did.

Sophia sat down about a yard away from her.

_Fights, I can handle. You know whose side you're on, and whose side you're not. You kick the asses of the other guys until they can't get up._

_I don't know what to __**do**__ in this situation._

She paused. _If I go with what I'd normally do, I'm gonna fuck this up. So what's the last thing I'd normally do?_

She took a deep breath. _This better be worth it. _"Taylor, I'm sorry."

Taylor looked around at her with red-rimmed eyes. "You said that already."

Sophia shook her head. "No, I'm sorry for being what I am. I'm sorry for not being better for you. I'm sorry for being a bitch, the kind of bitch that would have let that happen to you."

Taylor was staring at her.

"I'm sorry for still thinking in that mindset sometimes," Sophia went on. "It's so easy to get back into. But I can be that person, and I can be the person who loves you, at the same time. But that makes you uncomfortable. And I'm sorry for that, too."

Taylor's eyes were fixed on her. But she didn't seem to be amped up any more. Sophia took that as a good sign.

She took a deep breath. "I do bad things, sometimes," she admitted. "I go overboard a bit too much. Trying to build a rep. Trying to keep the creeps in their place. But since I met you, I've been trying to be good, to be the sort of person you could love."

She had no idea where this was coming from. But Taylor didn't seem to be hitting her or running away again, so she figured it was better than silence.

Looking down the street, she saw Danny's truck approaching. Standing up, she moved to beside Taylor, and reached down with her hand. "Come on," she said softly. "Let's get you home."

Taylor reached up and took her hand.

* * *

The ride home was awkwardly silent. Taylor wasn't talking, and Sophia didn't know what else to say. Danny wasn't sure what was going on, and decided that it would be better to wait until they were all in familiar surroundings before pushing it any farther.

So when he pulled the truck into the driveway, he turned to the pair of them and said, "Inside. Now."

Sophia looked startled. "Uh, shouldn't I be getting home?"

Danny shook his head. "No. This needs to be addressed. _Something_ happened, and I don't want it to spiral out of control. So … inside. We're going to have a bit of a talk."

They trooped into the house; Danny gestured to them to sit at the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair himself, and sat down.

"Taylor," he said quietly. "What happened?"

"She hasn't _changed," _said Taylor bitterly. "All this time, and she's still the same person underneath."

"But I'm _not,"_ protested Sophia. "I'm trying to change, really I am."

Danny cleared his throat. "Taylor, Sophia _has_ changed. I've seen it." He looked at the dark-skinned girl. "You're a different person, a better person, than you were when I met you."

"Well, she hasn't changed _enough,"_ Taylor retorted. "She's still got the same bullshit predator-prey mindset going on."

Danny sighed. "What happened?" he asked again.

This time, Sophia gave him a blow-by-blow account of the conversation outside the cinema. Taylor sat, head down, throughout the recital.

At the end of it, he ventured, "It sounds like a chance remark to me …"

Taylor looked up and shook her head.

"No," she said. "No, it's not. She said it without thinking. But she meant it." She took a deep breath. "Okay, you've changed, Soph. A bit. I can see it. But you haven't changed _enough._ Not so much that I'm comfortable being around you. I can see that now. You're still pushy. A bit grabby. Wanting to go farther. Those little comments, the innuendoes."

She pushed her chair away from the table, stood up. "You're too aggressive," she said. "Even when it comes to our relationship, it's still about predator and prey. You keep trying to be the predator, or pushing me to be. You can't be satisfied with a simple, equal relationship. Everything's about dominance, with you."

Sophia's eyes followed her. "So what does this mean … for us?" she asked.

Taylor shook her head. "It means that there isn't really an _us_, not any more. We can be friends, and we can hang out, but not … anything more. Until I get more comfortable with the way you do things, or until you learn to tone it down to the way I like it."

"But …" Sophia was bewildered. "The way you kissed me … I thought you liked …"

"Of course I _liked_ it," Taylor told her. "I'd have to be an idiot not to. And I like _you_. A lot. But I'm not comfortable with the way this is going. So I'm stepping back."

"Can we still at least go out on patrol together?" asked Sophia plaintively.

Taylor's eyes were troubled. "I don't know. I really don't."

Sophia stood up then. "Okay then," she said. "I'll do it."

Danny tilted his head. "Do what?" he asked.

Sophia gave him a grin that looked almost carefree. "Go out there and be the biggest damn hero you've ever seen."

She walked around the table and stood in front of Taylor. "I'll do it," she said softly. "For you. I'll prove I can be better. That I can change."

Stretching up on tiptoe, she kissed Taylor softly on the lips, a gentle peck. "You'll see," she said. "Just watch."

She turned to walk out of the room. Danny started to his feet. "I'll drive you back home –"

Sophia shook her head. "Thanks, but I can bus it. I need the time to think, anyway."

She went out through the front hall. Taylor followed her, at a distance. At the front door, Sophia turned and looked back.

"The movie was fun, wasn't it?" she said, with a sad smile.

"Yeah," agree Taylor. "The movie was fun."

"Well, I'll see you around."

Taylor nodded. "See you around."

The door closed behind Sophia. Taylor stood there, wanting to dash out, grab her, take her back. Knowing that she couldn't.

She turned and went back into the kitchen. Danny was still standing there.

"Are you going to be okay, kiddo?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know, Dad," she said. "I really don't know."

* * *

End of Chapter Eight


	9. Chapter 9

**Shadow Stalker - Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Swim The Deepest River, Climb The Tallest Tree

* * *

It was almost four o'clock before Sophia got off the bus and began the trek to her mother's house. The bus stop was on Stonemast Avenue, but it was a ways down, and she knew she would be walking for a bit.

She had cried on the bus. Even as the tears ran down her face, she had tried to stop them with sheer willpower, telling herself that only weaklings cried. But they had not stopped, and she was starkly reminded of the fact that even while Taylor was in the midst of tears, she was no weakling.

At least the waterworks had come to an end by the time she got off the bus. She wiped her eyes, got rid of her ruined makeup, and blew her nose, and was once more presentable to face the world.

* * *

The walk was a little more time-consuming than she had expected; she simply wasn't used to walking in a skirt, and it seemed that every errant breeze was determined to flip up said skirt and reveal her lacy underwear to the world. It wasn't _really_ like that, she knew, but the faster she walked, the more likely it seemed to be about to happen.

Nor did it help that the bruises left on her body by Taylor were starting to stiffen. Even walking just a little carefully, she was certain that any sort of close examination would find – among other things – a bruise in the shape of a hand-print on her left buttock, one that would match Taylor Hebert's left hand perfectly.

She remembered that kiss with shameful intensity; even now, with all the emotional turmoil she was going through, the memory was enough to make her go weak at the knees.

* * *

It was well after four when she got in; her mother was in the kitchen, while Terry lounged on the couch, watching TV.

"Hey," her brother greeted her, sitting up. "So how was the big date?"

"Shut the fuck up," she retorted, continuing through toward the kitchen.

"Hey, what the fuck?" he demanded. "I asked nicely. No need to bite my head off."

She ignored him. He stood up from the couch and followed her. "Seriously, Soph, just a little common fucking courtesy around here –"

* * *

Their mother looked up as Sophia entered the kitchen, Terry close behind her.

"Mom –" they both began at the same time.

"Be quiet, both of you," she snapped. "Swearing like that, for shame. If you have to swear, take it outside, where I won't hear it."

"Sorry, Mom, but I –" began Sophia.

"Mom, she just came in and snapped at me!" Terry interrupted. "No reason! I just asked her how her date went!"

Sophia felt her mother's probing gaze, and dropped her eyes. She was certain that her mother could see straight through her, see what had happened, see her pain and her shame. Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked furiously. She would _not_ cry again, not here, not in front of Terry.

"Sophita, come here," her mother said softly, using her baby name, and opened her arms. Sophia went to them willingly, as she had not done for six months and more, ever since she had gotten her powers. She felt her mother's arms warm around her, a refuge, a sanctuary. Tears leaked from her eyes and soaked into her mother's blouse.

"Mom, what the ... heck?" asked Terry blankly.

"Can't you see how unhappy she is?" asked his mother. "It obviously didn't go well." Sophia felt a motion, which may have been a jerk of her mother's head. "Go and check on your baby sister."

"Okay, Mom, but –"

"Go."

* * *

Sophia heard his footsteps retreating. Her mother patted her on the back, holding her close.

"Do you want to talk about it, Sophia?" she asked softly. "Did something happen between yourself and this Taylor? Did she hurt you?"

Sophia, to her embarrassment, found herself crying again. Hot salty tears soaked into her mother's blouse, and she clung to her, trying hard not to let any sound escape. Her mother's warm hand patted her back, making her feel more like a child, and strangely, making it seem more all right to cry, to let her emotions out.

When she raised her head again, her mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, then offered it. "Blow your nose, Sophita," she advised softly.

Sophia obeyed, then handed the square of cloth back. Without being told, she sat on a chair next to her mother.

"You were so happy, getting ready," her mother said softly. "What happened?"

Terry came thumping back downstairs; Sophia looked around slightly. She didn't want her brother hearing any of this, most of all the truth of her being a cape.

"Terry," her mother called. "I forgot to buy eggs. Can you go and get some from the shop, please?"

"What, seriously?" he protested. "Can't Sophia go?"

"No," she told him bluntly. "You can go. Now. They'll be closing soon."

Grumbling, he went.

Sophia's mother put her hands on Sophia's shoulders, and looked her in the eye.

"Tell me," she invited softly.

* * *

So Sophia told her. She elided over the intimacy, the cuddles and the kisses; her mother did not need to know about that. But she told her the basic story, how she had said just the wrong thing, how Taylor had reacted, and the rest of it.

She had thought she would cry again, at the retelling, but there were no more tears in her for now. Later, perhaps, but not at the moment.

Her mother looked at her solemnly. "So what are you going to do, Sophita?" she asked. "I can tell that you love her deeply. How are you going to win her back?"

Sophia looked her in the eye, and told her.

* * *

The afternoon sun was westering in the sky as Shadow Stalker arrived on top of the building opposite the Brockton Bay PRT offices. She didn't like being out in the daytime, even this late in the afternoon; it made her feel vulnerable, exposed. But if she was going to do this, she had to get it over with as soon as possible. Even now, she could feel her fierce independence eroding her resolve.

_If I am to have Taylor back, I must do this._

Leaping into space, she turned to shadow, using her cloak to semi-glide, semi-fall to the pavement opposite. Turning solid just before she landed, she went to a crouch for just a moment, letting her cloak spread around her. Ignoring the stares from the pedestrians around her, she stood and walked into the lobby of the PRT building.

The four PRT guards spaced around the lobby came to full alert, of course. She was a cape, and a little-known one at that. She'd been at this perhaps eighteen months, and she tended to keep to the shadows, both figuratively and in reality. Add to that the crossbows she wore at her belt, and the cases of arrows for those same crossbows, and they had a certain amount of reason to be wary of her.

Ignoring the guards, she approached the reception desk, keeping her hands well clear of the crossbows.

"Good afternoon," the receptionist greeted her urbanely. "Your name is Shadow Stalker, I presume? We have you down as an independent hero."

"I am, yes." Sophia took a deep breath. "I want to join the Wards."

* * *

She sat in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea in her hands; beside her, her mother held a cup of coffee. Opposite them, Armsmaster and Triumph occupied the other two chairs in the room.

"You have to understand," Armsmaster observed, "it's a little unusual for independent heroes to walk in off the street and ask to join the Wards."

"I thought you wanted young parahumans joining you guys?" asked Sophia. "Why the third degree?"

Armsmaster shook his head slightly. "Apologies if it seems like the third degree," he said. "It's just that we'd like to understand your reasoning behind the sudden decision. We've been keeping track of your movements, and you seem to be doing quite well in your patch."

"Especially since you went out with that other cape last night," Triumph commented. "The Brute, or whatever he or she was. Hookwolf's _still_ groggy from the beating she laid on him."

"Breaker," Sophia put in. "Her name is Breaker."

Triumph looked at her searchingly, apparently picking something up from her tone. "Is this Breaker the reason you're here today?"

Sophia took a deep breath. "In a way," she admitted. "Now, Mom's given her full approval to me joining, so is there a reason that I can't?"

Armsmaster looked at Sophia's mother. "You agree with this course of action, Mrs Hess?"

The older woman nodded. "Sophia is going to be heading out there with her costume and crossbows anyway, so if she has someone backing her up, all the better. This Breaker was backing her up, but she doesn't want to do it anymore, so, yes, I agree with my Sophia joining the Wards."

"Is there anything you'd like to tell us about Breaker, while we're here?" Armsmaster asked bluntly. "Anything you think we should know?"

Sophia looked him in the eye, or at least in the visor. "Just that she's a good guy," she said flatly. "One of the best. Better than me. She took on Hookwolf to save me, and only to save me. Okay?"

Armsmaster nodded. "Noted," he replied.

"Now comes the hard part," observed Triumph.

Sophia gave him a wary look. "What?"

"Paperwork."

* * *

Every form had been filled out, permissions signed, identification offered and checked. The i's had been dotted and the t's crossed. It was now full dark outside. Triumph stood and stretched, then leaned back with his hands in the small of his back.

"Wow," he groaned, "that was rougher than I remember it being for me."

"You had a few shortcuts," Armsmaster reminded him.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," Triumph grinned.

"Shortcuts?" Sophia wanted to know.

"I'll tell you later," Triumph told her. _When your Mom's not here,_ he meant.

"Oh, okay," Sophia said uncertainly. "So ... when do I actually join the Wards? Officially, I mean."

"Technically speaking, there's a twenty-four hour cooling off period," Armsmaster pointed out. "Any time until this time tomorrow, you or your mother can call this off. But you're officially a member of the Wards right at the moment."

He raised a finger. "Note that if you go and do something right now as a Ward, and get into trouble for it, you may not use the 'cooling off period' as an excuse to get out of it. You break the rules as a Ward, you're disciplined as a Ward."

"Of course, most punishments for probationary Wards breaking the rules in any real fashion involve being kicked out of the Wards, so that's another thing," Triumph noted.

"Which, just incidentally, brings up a topic I have been meaning to cover," Armsmaster stated. "Your crossbows."

"What about them?" Sophia's tone was defensive. She was starting to get the impression that this had been a bad idea.

"Do you have non-lethal ammunition for them?" The question was direct and blunt.

"I ... no."

"I thought as much." Armsmaster's tone was hard. "If you're to be in the Wards, you need to change that. So far, you've been lucky. There have been several incidents which may have turned out badly for you, but no charges have been laid as yet."

"Change it how?" she asked helplessly. "They're crossbows. They shoot arrows. It's sort of what they do. If I lose the crossbows, I become someone without any ranged capability, and with damn-all damage capability at all."

He shook his head. "I wasn't suggesting discarding them. You're obviously very accurate with them. I would suggest we look into non-lethal ammunition. An arrow that only penetrates so far, then releases a knockout drug. Perhaps a blunt arrow, to distract and stun without doing lethal damage."

"If it ... if it helps me become a better hero," she told him, "then I'll do it. Whatever it takes."

He smiled; a rare expression, for him. "That's what I like to hear, Shadow Stalker." He held out his hand; dazedly, she shook it. "Welcome to the Wards."

Triumph shook her hand as well, while Armsmaster shook hands with her mother.

"Wanna come meet the Wards, while you're here and all?" Triumph asked. "They're not all on base right now, but some of them are."

Sophia looked to her mother. "Can I, Mom?"

"Only if it doesn't take too long," Mrs Hess replied. "We still have to get home. We don't want Terry getting worried."

"Terry?" asked Triumph.

"My older brother," sighed Sophia. "He doesn't know."

"Ah, gotcha," he acknowledged. "Well, come on. I'll introduce you around."

* * *

Armsmaster sat and drank coffee with Sophia's mother, while they waited for the newest Ward to return.

"It's been a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hess," he observed. "Believe me, some of the parents of would-be Wards are less than cooperative with the most basic ideas."

"I just want the best for my girl," she told him steadfastly.

"Well, we'll do our best to keep her safe," he assured her. "We can't guarantee _absolute_ safety, of course. In today's world, that's basically impossible."

She knew what he was talking about. "But you won't be pushing her into the front line of any fight?"

He shook his head. "No. She's an infiltrator, a Stranger, with useful combat capabilities. But she's not a front line combatant."

"That's good to hear," she noted. "She's a little ... aggressive. Pushy. It will be good to have wiser heads to counsel her against rash action."

"Believe me," he assured her, "she won't be the only aggressive, pushy cape we get in here, not by a long shot. The Protectorate and the Wards are here to keep them in line and ensure that the aggression is directed in a constructive manner."

She sipped at her coffee. "Well, Sophia's been doing her own thing ever since her powers manifested. If you can get her in line and keep her there, good luck to you."

* * *

Triumph put his eye to the retinal scanner and pressed the button. Seconds later, the door unlocked. He ushered her in.

"Everyone!" he called out. "I'd like you to meet Shadow Stalker!"

Sophia looked around; 'everyone' seemed to consist of a boy in a rust-red costume, and a slender, petite girl in green and teal.

"Hey," said the boy. He lifted into the air and flew the dozen yards that separated them. "I'm Aegis. Pleased to meet you."

She shook his hand. "Shadow Stalker. But you knew that."

He nodded. "Vista said she saw you out and about last night." He turned and gestured. "Vista, come on over."

Space distorted, making Sophia's eyes ache, and all of a sudden, the girl was standing right in front of her.

"You're not wearing a visitor's pass," she noted in a quiet voice.

Sophia shook her head. "No," she agreed. "I just joined. Shadow Stalker." She reached out her hand; Vista shook it, her hand delicate in Sophia's muscular grip.

For a moment, Sophia was inclined to dismiss her as being unimportant in the scheme of things, but then she reminded herself of her reason for being here. _If I'm going to show Taylor that I can be a hero, then I need to __**be**__ a hero,_ she told herself.

"It's good to meet you, Vista," she told the younger girl warmly. "How long have you been in the Wards?"

Vista thought for a moment. "About a year ... Aegis?"

Aegis nodded. "Yeah, a year."

"Wow," Sophia commented. "If you don't mind me asking ... how old _are_ you?"

Vista hung her head. " ... I turn twelve in a month."

Sophia put her arm around Vista's shoulders. "Hey, I wouldn't worry about it," she confided. "I don't even turn fourteen for another four months. So we're really only one year apart."

Vista looked up at her. "I thought you were older than that," she confessed. "Everyone else on the team's way older than me."

Sophia shrugged. "So it's us against the creaky old geezers, right?"

"Right!" Vista agreed with a grin. She gave Sophia a sudden hug, taking the older girl by surprise. "It'll be good to have someone on the team I can talk to."

Sophia smiled, and ruffled Vista's blonde hair. "It'll be good to have someone on the team who can show me around. I'm not used to this team stuff."

"Oh, I can help you with _that,"_ Vista assured her.

"Excellent," Triumph noted. "Thanks for that, Vista. Now, I suppose I should be getting you back, Shadow Stalker."

Sophia nodded. "Yeah, I guess," she agreed. "It was nice meeting you guys. I'll see you again tomorrow."

"Good to see you," Aegis agreed.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Vista told her. "And Shadow Stalker? My name's Missy."

Sophia blinked, taken aback once more by the younger girl's directness and ease of trust.

"Uh, yeah," she managed. _What the hell, I'm joining anyway._ She pulled off her mask. "Call me Sophia."

Vista's face split in a wide smile. "It's really good to meet you, Sophia."

Sophia smiled back. "You too, Missy." She turned to Triumph, while fitting her mask back into place. "Okay, let's go. Mom will be wanting to get going."

* * *

On the car ride back home, once she had changed from the Shadow Stalker costume, Sophia sat in thought.

_Taylor's influence on me must have been stronger than I realised,_ she mused. _I would have brushed off someone like Missy, before. Or at least been just polite. But she was friendly, and I was friendly back. Like a normal person._

She was fully aware that she wasn't really a 'normal' person, not in her attitudes, nor in her actions. Nor had she been that way for at least eighteen months. Normal people do not consider it commonplace to don a costume and a mask, to go out and deliver bodily harm to criminals.

She had considered herself hardened for the task, stripped of those things, those emotions, that made her weak and vulnerable. She was a weapon, a predator, a lurker in the shadows. Not a prey creature, not soft and compliant. _Never again._

But being with Taylor, seeing her, talking to her, listening to her, understanding where she was coming from ... it had changed her, in subtle ways. Not so subtle, now. While she still thought of herself, deep down, as a predator, it took her little mental effort to see someone like Vista, someone petite, vulnerable, as someone to be helped, protected, not to be brushed aside as a weakling.

_Taylor, I wish you could see this in me,_ she thought to herself.

A worry struck her. _Being nice to Vista ... does that make me soft?_

She firmed her jaw. _Hell no. I can protect people, and still be hard, tough, strong._

_Taylor taught me that much, at least._

* * *

Sophia's mother looked across at her, as the glare from street-lights fell across her face, fell away, then returned, over and over again.

"I'm proud of you, you know," she told her daughter quietly.

Sophia looked around at her, blinking a couple of times.

"Really?" she asked.

"Really. It took real maturity to go in there and do that."

"You know why I'm doing it."

"I know. Is she worth it?"

A long pause.

"Yeah, Mom. Yeah, she's worth it."

"Good." A slight smile. "You know, I still haven't met her."

"I know. I'll bring her around when I can. I'm sure you'll get along with her."

"I'm sure I will, dear."

There was another long pause.

"Thanks, Mom. For everything."

"You're welcome, dear."

* * *

Terry was feeding the baby when they got in; he looked up and frowned.

"That took longer than you said it would," he complained, but without any heat to his words.

"School supplies are school supplies," Sophia told him airily. "If you can't get them one place, you get them in another. But they are kind of needed. Yeah?"

"Yeah, well, you really shouldn't have waited till the last moment and got Mom to drive you all over town," Terry scolded her. "So anyway, about that date you went on ..."

"None of your business, brother dear," Sophia told him, with rather more self-control than she felt inside, and went upstairs to her room. She stowed the bag with her costume in her closet, then went to take a shower.

Hopefully, by the time she came down for dinner, Terry would have forgotten about the date.

It wasn't likely, she knew, but she could always hope.

* * *

Taylor and Emma stood side by side, the incoming students surging around them. It was Tuesday morning, September eighth. The first day of the new school year.

Taylor spoke first. "Well, Ems, what do you think? Our new school, for the next five years."

Emma looked at her critically. "Taylor, is something wrong? You look a little peaked."

Taylor shook her head. "Nothing's wrong. I'm good."

Emma frowned. "Don't try to bullshit me, Taylor Anne Hebert. I know you. I saw how hard it hit you when ... well, you know what happened last year. You've gotten better, but now you've gone and backslid. What's the matter?"

Taylor took a deep breath. "It's Sophia, she ..."

"She what?"

And then Taylor was grabbed and spun around. Bewildered, she looked at the face of the person who had grabbed her. It was Sophia, her face alight with joy and mischief.

"Sophia?" she blurted. "What are you doing?"

"Thanking you," Sophia told her, and hugged her so hard that Taylor instinctively pulled a couple of levels of amp so that she could breathe.

"For what?" she asked, once Sophia had let her go.

"For pointing out to me that my head was still partway up my ass," Sophia explained blithely. "So, I've taken steps."

"Taken steps?" repeated Taylor, feeling like she had just walked into a movie halfway through.

"Yeah," Sophia grinned. She leaned in and gave Taylor a smacking kiss on the cheek, only a fraction of an inch away from her lips. While she was there, she whispered a few words in her ear.

Taylor's eyes went wide. "You _didn't."_

Sophia nodded, her eyes bright. "I surely did."

Taylor hugged her, almost as tightly as she had herself been hugged. "That's _wonderful,"_ she enthused.

Sophia nodded. "So you just wait and see. I can do it. I'll show you that I can."

Taylor smiled, and kissed Sophia, a soft and gentle kiss, directly on the lips.

"I'll be watching." Her voice was soft.

Sophia's smile slipped for just a moment, and it seemed that there may have been a tear in her eye. "Thanks," she managed. She cleared her throat. "Look, I've gotta go and meet with the track and field coach. But I'll see you around, 'kay?"

Taylor nodded. "Definitely see you around." She leaned in and whispered a single word.

Sophia's entire face lit up. She was still smiling as she left them, still smiling when she turned the corner.

* * *

"Wow," observed Emma. "That was different." She looked Taylor over. "And you've just been given a shot in the arm. I take it you've mended things with her? Whatever it was that went wrong?"

Taylor smiled. "Oh, I think so," she agreed. "I'm just ... wow."

Emma frowned. "So what was it she said to you, and what was it that you said to her?"

Taylor chuckled. "Well, what she said to me was," she leaned in and lowered her voice, _"'I've joined the Wards.'"_

Emma's eyes went wide. "Holy shit," she managed. "She _did?"_

Taylor nodded solemnly. "If she said it, I believe it."

"Okay, so what did you say to her, that put a spark up her spine?"

Taylor grinned, and leaned in to Emma's ear again. She whispered a single word.

"_Hero."_

* * *

End of Part Nine


	10. Chapter 10

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Fitting In

* * *

_I did not think this through._

Sophia had found herself thinking that, more and more often, over the last few weeks.

She had joined the Wards eagerly enough; it was a statement, both to herself and to Taylor, that she could change, she could be _better_ than the way Taylor had seen her outside the cinema (and, to be brutally honest, the way she might still think on occasion).

But making a statement was one thing. Backing it up was entirely another.

She found it easy to moderate her behaviour around Taylor. She was in love; that was for pretty damn sure. Times had been that she had considered herself in love before, but these were now revealed to be the shallow infatuations of an immature mind; or rather, hormonal attractions and nothing more.

When she wasn't with Taylor, and in high stress situations, she tended to revert to her older ways of thinking. She did her best to keep these in check, given that they did not fit well with the teamwork concept that Triumph was doing his best to foster with the Wards, but it wasn't always easy. Hell, sometimes, it didn't seem to make the most amount of _sense._

Such as right now.

* * *

Triumph's voice crackled in her earpiece._ "Shadow Stalker; you're out of position."_

She stifled a sigh. "I need to check something out here."

_"Is there something wrong?"_

"Not that I can _see, _but -"

"_If there's nothing wrong, then we have to stick to the plan. Get back in position."_

"What if the plan's wrong?"

"_The time to run any potential changes past me is in the planning stage. For the moment, you need to stick with how we agreed we're doing this."_

"But –"

"_**Now**__, Shadow Stalker."_

For a moment, she considered simply defying him and going ahead anyway.

* * *

They were assisting the Protectorate in pulling a raid on an Empire Eighty-Eight drug warehouse; Triumph had worked out a plan to fit in with the main raid. However, Sophia was being kept back out of the action. She considered that her Stranger capabilities were not being utilised to their full potential, especially where it came to gathering intel, and potentially taking out hostiles before they knew she was there.

Triumph seemed to think that it was a good idea to hold her back, considering the neo-Nazi inclinations of the Empire, just in case she fell into the hands of the enemy.

_As if they'd treat me any differently than they'd treat Vista or even Clockblocker,_ she snorted to herself. The unwritten rules were clear; while she'd been at risk hitting E88 as a lone vigilante, hitting them as part of a Protectorate raid was another thing altogether. While Kaiser didn't _fear_ the Protectorate, he certainly didn't want to _provoke_ them either, and causing undue harm to a teenage Ward, no matter her skin colour, was not something that he was likely to risk doing.

But neither did she want to draw Triumph's ire. He was older than her, but they'd had their powers for roughly the same amount of time. The difference between them was twofold; firstly, he had gone into the Wards the moment he had triggered. Secondly, he came from money and privilege, and had a certain amount of expectation toward how his subordinates would react to his orders.

Looking at the matter in a totally fair and honest way – something that Sophia was finding it easier to do, these days – he wasn't precisely arrogant, but he _was_ over-compensating just a bit, and sometimes that would lead him to be just a little more pushy than she found comfortable.

"Fine," she sighed into the throat mic. "Shadow Stalker, returning to position."

Turning, she went to shadow as she leaped from the corner of the building. Her cloak billowed insubstantially, catching the air just enough to glide her across the way.

_I just hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass._

* * *

"Okay," Triumph began. "So talk to me. Why were you out of position?"

He was still in costume, only lacking the lion's-head helmet that served as a mask and to focus his shouts. Sophia had to admit, he was very good-looking. In fact, he was seriously built in every way. If she wasn't oriented toward girls, and toward Taylor in particular, she would definitely be interested, even if he _was_ three years older than her.

But she didn't want to do this now. She'd been shut down over the radio, and she really didn't feel like going into it face to face.

"Does it really matter?"

"Yes. It does."

"Why?"

"Sophia, I'm detecting an attitude from you. Is this going to be a problem? Is this going to happen in the future?"

She sat up in her chair. "Rory, I don't _want_ to have an attitude. I don't _want_ to be a problem. But I triggered at a really bad point in my life, and ever since then I've been making sure I never get back to that point. All the time you've been a Ward, doing the right thing, learning teamwork under Battery and the others, I've been solo. I've been learning to think on my feet, to follow my instincts. Out there, today? I followed them. I was going to circle around, see what I could see. But you shut me down. So I followed orders. End of story."

Rory sat down opposite her. "Sophia. You have the makings of a good Ward in you. I can see it."

_That's right, butter me up. Right before you give me the hard sell._

"But you've got to _communicate_ with the rest of the team. Tell them what you're thinking. If you'd given me your ideas, maybe we could have adapted."

She shook her head. "No. You didn't give me a chance. You didn't ask. You just told me to get back into position. And because you did, because I followed orders, Alabaster and a dozen goons got away."

"You can't be sure of that."

"You can't be sure I'm wrong."

He sighed. "Maybe I _was_ wrong. Maybe I should have asked your opinion, found out what you were doing." His gaze fixed on her. "But maybe you should have spoken up earlier, when you saw the hole in the plan."

She tried to keep the frustration from her voice. "I didn't _see_ the hole in the plan until I was on site. I was just going to check out a hunch, that was all. I didn't _know_ there was a way out. If I had, I would've kept going, or at the very least I would have told you. But I didn't know for sure, so when you told me to go back, I went."

Rory drew a deep breath, then held it for a moment before letting it out.

"We're both on edge here, and we're talking in circles. This conversation is on hold; we'll pick it up again later, when we're both feeling a little more like ourselves."

_This __**is**__ me,_ she told him silently as he walked away. _Can't you __**see**__ that?_

* * *

Slowly, she got up from the chair, and went to check on the patrol schedules.

_Paired with Vista. Oh, well, it could be worse._

"Uh ... Sophia?"

She turned to see the Wards' resident Tinker standing there. He was a little shy, but a nice guy all the same. He didn't have Rory's need to be in charge, to prove himself.

He had joined the Wards about three months before Sophia, but it was obvious that he was still getting used to the role. He simply wasn't used to having powers, not in the same way that she was. He had a suit of armour in red and gold, and a laser pistol, and he was working on a hovering skateboard, but he still had some way to go on that last one. One of his problems was that he still hadn't worked out where his specialty lay, and that was hampering his true creativity.

Never a truly sociable person, she wasn't overly interested in company right now for various reasons. Normally, she would have brushed him off, but here in the Wards she was trying to build a new image for herself, and so she constructed a smile instead.

"Oh, hey, Chris. What's up?"

He took an object from behind his back and held it out to her. She took it, and looked it over.

It _looked_ like one of her crossbow arrows ... sort of. However, instead of the sharp head or the tranquilliser injector that she was used to, this had two prongs and a rather bulky shaft.

"What's this do?"

"I, uh, was thinking about when we took on that guy with the weird blood, remember?"

"Sanguine, yeah," she recalled. "Bastard counteracted my tranqs as soon as they hit him."

"Yeah," he agreed. "So I was thinking how Armsmaster tasered him down. And I asked myself why you couldn't have done the same thing."

She looked again at the arrow in her hand, and thought about his words. "Chris ... is this a _taser_ arrow?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah. There's a capacitor in the shaft that will put out a fairly serious jolt; it should pretty well mimic the effect of a standard taser. I just don't know how it'll work against an actual target, shot from an actual crossbow."

She grinned. Unexpectedly, it felt as though she meant it. "Well then, let's go see, shall we?"

* * *

"So ... you okay?"

Shadow Stalker looked across at Vista as they stood on the rooftop, scanning the area.

"What?"

Vista looked at her. "I said, are you okay?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Vista shrugged. "I heard the radio chatter on the warehouse raid. I saw Triumph chewing you out later. I just wondered if you wanted someone to talk to about it."

Sophia sighed. "Okay, first off, I was wrong. I went off position without telling anyone. Secondly, he didn't chew me out, he just ... had a word with me. Thirdly, are you my personal therapist? Do I look like someone who needs a shoulder to cry on?"

Vista sounded hurt. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I just wanted to ... I thought I could ..."

The dichotomy was interesting. On the one level, she saw Vista as a weakling, eager to please, someone who would be easy to keep in her place. But on another level, she saw a teammate, someone who had approached her, opened up, offered help.

And abruptly, she felt terrible, as if she had kicked a small puppy.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry," she blurted. "Come here, come on." She held out her arms and hugged Vista; the younger girl hesitated, then hugged her back.

"I'm sorry about that," Sophia told her after they disengaged. "I get a bit bitchy sometimes. And that thing with Triumph ... I'm not really sure I deserved to get told off like that, you know?"

"That's all right," Vista assured her. "Rory's dad's the mayor, you know? He feels like he's got a lot to live up to. It's not really personal. He sees his dad telling people what to do all day, and he wants to make sure that he can do the same thing, now that he's the leader of the Wards."

"Huh. I never thought of it like that."

Vista sat down on the edge of the roof. "C'mon, let's take five. We're ahead on the patrol schedule anyway."

Sophia sat beside her, spreading her cloak out behind her. "Sounds like a plan."

They sat for a few minutes, looking out over the city skyline. Then Vista nudged Sophia with her shoulder.

"Hey, got a question. If you were interested in dating any of the boys, which one would you pick?"

Sophia turned her head and stared at the preteen.

"Seriously? You're asking me that? You're not even old enough to be thinking about shit like that."

Vista chuckled. "Just because I'm not developing yet doesn't mean I'm not thinking about stuff like that. I was just ... curious, is all."

"Well, you're out of luck," Sophia told her. "I bat for the other team."

Vista was startled. "What, really?" She paused. "So what you're saying is, you'd pick _me_?"

Sophia shook her head. "Sorry, you're too young for me. No, I've got a girlfriend. Or someone I like a lot. But ... we're not together right now."

Vista's voice was all concern. "Aww, what happened? Did you guys break up or something? Did she leave you?"

Sophia sighed. "No, it was me. I fucked up. I've just got to ... well, I guess, show that I can be better than I was."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Joined the Wards, didn't I?"

Vista's tone was incredulous. "You joined the Wards to impress your _girlfriend?"_

Sophia looked around. "Keep it down, keep it down."

Vista lowered her voice, but she was still grinning broadly. "Wow. I mean ... wow. She's one lucky girl if you're willing to do this for her."

"Yeah, well, whenever we talked about it, I said I'd join if she joined first."

"What? She's a cape too?"

"Yeah. Breaker."

"Wow, _she's_ your girlfriend?"

"What about it?"

"I saw the Hookwolf fight. I'm seriously impressed."

Sophia sighed. "Yeah. We were going good for a while. Then I fucked up, and yeah. Figured that the best way to prove I meant that I'd changed was to join the Wards. And then ..."

"And then, this thing today with Triumph."

"Yeah. That."

A few moments passed, and then Vista climbed to her feet, dusting off the seat of her dress. "Come on, we've lazed around long enough. Time to catch up with the patrol schedule."

Sophia rolled backward, went to shadow, and reformed in a standing posture. Vista watched with a certain amount of admiration.

"You're pretty good with your powers. Do you practise a lot?"

Sophia prepared to leap off the edge of the roof. "Off and on. Mainly by going out and kicking ass."

Vista's tone was amused. "And taking names?"

Sophia snorted. "What do I need to know their _names _for?"

She launched herself into space, and turned insubstantial a moment later. As she glided toward the next rooftop, Vista chuckled and squeezed the same distance so that she could step across.

* * *

"So, hero, how's it going in the Wards?"

Sophia constructed a smile for Taylor, keeping her voice as low as her friend's.

"It's going great. Peachy. Actually, they're looking for new recruits. Have you thought some more about joining?"

Taylor raised one eyebrow slightly. "That bad, huh?"

Sophia's forehead hit the cafeteria table with a light thud, and she crossed her hands over the back of her head.

"It's _worse,"_ she groaned. "Rules and regulations and don't do this, and monitor duty that, and _I miss you so bad."_

"But you see me at school."

Sophia shook her head, rolling it back and forth on the table. "Not the same. I miss going out with you. That night we took down Hookwolf was _intense._ I never felt so alive in all my career."

"You nearly _died,"_ Taylor pointed out reasonably.

"That's _why."_ Sophia raised her head and looked at Taylor. "Being out with you is _fun._ I know what your powers can do, and how to work with that. In the Wards, when we're in a team situation, I have to work with _everyone's_ powers in mind. I'm a loner. I know that, you know that. I can work well with you, because I _want_ to work well with you. But more than that … it gets hard."

Taylor reached across the table and took her hand. Sophia squeezed it as hard as she could; it wasn't like Taylor couldn't take it.

"I'm sorry that it's so hard for you," Taylor told her softly. "I really, really appreciate you doing this."

"But can't you join as well?"

Taylor shook her head sadly. "Sorry. I've got to make sure that I don't accidentally rip someone's arm off or something in the middle of a fight. I don't think I've got that level of control yet."

"But they can _teach_ you that level of control."

"I'm tempted, oh god how I'm tempted. But I really think you should do this on your own. If I'm there, you might start slacking off or something."

Taylor stood up; her hand slid from Sophia's grip.

"But I'll see you at school, still?" asked Sophia.

Taylor nodded. "Of course you will. I still feel the same way about you as I did before. I just want to know who it is that I'm falling for."

And as Sophia watched, she turned and walked from the cafeteria.

Strong and confident.

Sophia vowed that she would see it through, win Taylor's approval.

No matter what.

* * *

Harry's Gym was old and decrepit, much like its owner. An ex-pugilist, Harry had taken the money from his last big win and invested it in the gym that still bore his name. But it had fallen on hard times, and he was on his way out as well.

Still, people were turning up and using the equipment, and so on a good day he could pretend to himself that his Gym was still in its heyday.

It was mid-afternoon; half a dozen of his regulars were using the weights, or working the bags, or sparring in the ring. The sounds of grunts and hisses of breath, of fist on canvas or flesh, were the breath of his life, the blood in his veins. The locker-room smell of sweaty clothes washed all too little, the dust that was settling more and more these days, the mold where water was getting in by a leak in the roof, they were also a fact of life here.

The last straw was the punks coming around demanding 'protection' money. He didn't have it, and even if he did, he wouldn't have given it to them. In his day, he would have taken them on, two or even three at a time, if they'd given him a fair fight, instead of bringing knives and guns along. But they had; they'd shown up, threatened him and his customers. Demanded money. Gone away with the promise that they next time they showed up, things would get very bad.

Harry had thought about going to the police, but what could they do? He had no names, no descriptions worth a crap. They hadn't actually committed a crime, or if they had, he didn't know the law well enough to figure it out.

And so when the slim form darkened the doorway, he thought for a moment that they'd shown up again. But he slid from the tall stool that he normally sat on, and stumped toward the door, and saw that it was a girl.

This threw him for a moment; the sort of girls that boxed were not this type. They had weight and muscle on them; this one was skinny, almost boyish. And even though she was tall for her age, she still couldn't have been more than fifteen. He knew the families of all the men here; she wasn't the daughter of any of them. So what was she doing here?

"Help you out?" he asked. "You lost or something? Need directions?"

She shook her head, the motion drawing flashes of reflected fluorescent light from her glasses. "I'm where I need to be, I guess. I need to learn how to box, how to fight. Can you teach me that, here?"

Again, that gave him pause. Her tone was matter-of-fact, blunt. She wasn't silly, giggly, like he remembered girls of this age being.

"Sure, I can teach you," he grunted. "But a thin little stick of nothing like you? You don't want to learn how to box. Boxing's all about power and heft. Someone like you's probably got the speed, but you won't be landing a punch worth a damn."

She smiled; her mouth was wide and expressive.

"How about you let _me_ worry about that."

* * *

End of Part Ten


	11. Chapter 11

**Shadow Stalker – Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Training Montage

* * *

Taylor eyed the bag and threw a punch, and then another one. The training gloves encasing her hands protected her knuckles from the impacts, but the jolt still travelled up her arm. She was getting better; at least now, her punches were beginning to make the bag rock slightly.

_This is a lot easier when I use amp._

But she was refusing to use her powers. Not for this. She had to learn to hit hard the old fashioned way, and in the process – she hoped – learn how to moderate her capabilities, hit hard enough to matter when it counted, but not so hard as to accidentally kill someone.

She moved around the bag a little, remembering to stay on the balls of her feet – Harry had patiently explained to her what that actually meant – and threw another punch. The bag rocked a little more.

"Hey."

She looked around, glad of the interruption. She had been at this for nearly an hour now; Harry had her doing bag work, to refine her punching technique. Sweat was running down her face, and she was panting slightly from the exertion.

Harry was standing several paces away. He was a blocky fireplug of a man, far heavier than she was in the shoulders and body, but a few inches shorter in height. He was also old, older than her father, and what hair he had was grey or going that way.

"You're improving," he told her grudgingly. "But you're still dropping your shoulder when you throw a straight right."

_And I'm still not hitting worth a damn, I know,_ she added silently. She simply didn't have the weight to put behind a good punch; at least, not unless she used amp. Which she didn't want to do. It felt too much like cheating.

"Is that a problem?" she asked. She knew it was, or he wouldn't have brought it up; however she didn't know _why._

He nodded seriously. "Sure. Drop your shoulder, you leave your jaw wide open. Your opponent tags you there, you're on the mat wondering where all the pretty tweety birds came from."

She wanted to smile at his description, but didn't want to make him think she was just another silly girl. So she nodded back, matching his expression of seriousness. "Right. So I don't drop my shoulder." She paused. "I didn't even realise I was doing it."

"Yeah, not surprised there," Harry grunted. "Bad habits have a way of sneakin' up on a body." He glanced around; the Gym was more or less empty, and the ring was free. "Tell ya what. Get them practice gloves off, I'll fit ya for a real pair, an' we'll spar a bit. Show ya where you're goin' wrong, an' what happens when ya do."

Taylor hesitated. She'd been coming to Harry's Gym for a couple of weeks, and she'd seen him in the ring with some of the regulars. As old and grey-haired as he was, as slow and creaky as he seemed outside the ring, when he put the gloves on, he became a new man. She had seen him throw punches that impacted _hard_, and rocked his opponents – big, strong men – on their heels. She had no doubt that, amped up, she could take his worst punishment, and hand out a reply in spades, but she didn't _want_ to use her powers to get through this.

* * *

Danny got up from where he was sitting against the wall, and approached the pair of them. When Taylor had first told him that she wanted to take boxing training, he had been dubious. But she had brought him in to meet Harry, whom he had recognised as an old associate of his father's. Moreover, there were a few Dockworkers who attended the Gym from time to time, and so Danny's reservations were dispelled. He trusted Harry to train his daughter, but he still liked to turn up with her and keep an eye on her. It had only been a couple of months since the incident with the ABB, and he still felt intensely protective of his daughter.

* * *

"What's up?" he asked casually.

Harry glanced around at him. "Girl's still got a few bad habits," he explained. "Figure the best way to get her over 'em is to get her in the ring, tap her a few times when she pulls 'em."

Danny nodded judiciously. "Sounds reasonable. Just don't break anything, okay?"

Harry grinned, showing missing teeth. Not all were due to age. "Sure. Might wanna take her glasses, though."

"Ah," protested Taylor unhappily. "I'm really shortsighted. I won't be able to see a thing."

"If you're wearin' glasses," Harry pointed out, "one good hit'll smash 'em. Or they get knocked off."

"Try these," Danny suggested, pulling a pair of sports goggles from his pocket. "Took a while to find them, but they should be about right."

"Oh wow, Dad, thanks," Taylor enthused, removing her glasses clumsily – the training gloves did not lend themselves to manual dexterity – and pulling the goggles on over her head. She had to pull hair out of the way before she got them fitted over her eyes, but once that was accomplished, she beamed at the two men. "How do they look?"

"Never mind how they look, do they work?" asked Danny.

She nodded. "I can see just fine," she told him. "Thanks, Dad."

"Okay, you can see," grunted Harry. "Now get them gloves off, so I c'n put real ones on you."

As Taylor trotted away, Harry turned to Danny. "You sure you want to encourage this?" he muttered. "Kid's got heart, but she ain't got th' heft or th' weight ta really get into it."

Danny shook his head. "She wants to try, I'll support her."

Harry eyed him for a few moments. "Okay, fine. I'll see how she goes in the ring. Just remember, she asked for this."

* * *

By the time he rejoined Taylor, she had the training gloves off. He rummaged through his locker and located the smallest pair of gloves he could find; they were relatively unworn, as most of his regulars had larger hands than that, but they still looked ludicrous on Taylor's hands. He had head protectors, but he didn't intend to hit her hard enough to need them. Not this lesson, anyway.

"They comfortable?" he demanded, drawing the laces up tight. "Not too loose?"

Hesitantly, she shook her head. "No, not loose. They feel weird, though."

"Sure they would," he agreed. "First time you're wearin' 'em. Make a fist."

She held up her hand and tried to clench her fist. The glove bent slightly.

"No, like this," he growled, grabbed the glove, and bent it around.

She tried again, clenching harder, and this time the glove formed a proper shape.

"Good," he told her. "Now go get your dad to come help me glove up. Warm up on the bag till I come get you."

She trotted away again, gloves held up and away from her body. He watched her go, gauging how she moved. _Light on her feet, but no heft, no weight to her shoulders._ He felt kind of sorry for her; she had enthusiasm, but just _wanting_ to do it wasn't enough sometimes.

* * *

By the time Danny had finished fixing his laces the way he liked them, she had worked up a sweat all over again at the hanging bag. It was rocking slightly on the chain, proving that she wasn't slacking on her punches. "Okay," he called out to her. "Into the ring."

She turned from the bag and moved toward the roped-off ring in the middle of the gym. Harry and Danny also moved toward it. "You'll go timekeeper?" Harry asked Danny. "Three rounds, one minute each."

"Sure thing," Danny agreed, sliding back his sleeve to reveal his watch.

Taylor was just climbing into the ring when Harry heard the call from the door.

"Hey, old man. Where's our money?"

* * *

"You and Triumph don't get along too well, do you?"

Shadow Stalker glanced up at Aegis as he paced her effortlessly. She paused to catch her breath, and he swooped down to land beside her.

"Not sure that it's any of your business," she told him tartly.

"If it's not, then I apologise," he replied at once. "But that depends on why you dislike him. He's a little pushy, sure. But if you dislike him because he's the team leader, then that means when I become leader, you'll dislike me. And I'd like to nip that in the bud before it becomes a problem."

She drew a deep sigh. "I don't _hate_ the guy," she tried to explain. "But he rubs me the wrong way. He's all about him giving orders and us obeying them. I'm more intuitive than that; if I see something that's off, I want to know why. But he pulls me up when I start questioning things, because he needs a solid reason for not doing what he says."

Aegis blinked. "Wow, okay." He put a hand on her shoulder; she flinched away, and he pulled his hand back immediately. "Oh, sorry. Uh, when I become leader, I want you to know that if you've got a problem with the way I'm doing something, or there's something you're not sure about, just raise it with me, okay? I can see you're a pretty solid operator. You did okay on your own until you joined us. Which is pretty spectacular for a fourteen year old -"

"Thirteen," she corrected. "I turn fourteen at the end of December."

"Right, yeah," he agreed, then tilted his head. "Wow, I thought you were fourteen already."

She grinned slightly behind her mask. "And _you_ turned fifteen back in June. See, _I_ can keep track."

He blushed slightly under his mask. "Well, uh -" He seemed to come to a decision. "Listen, I was just wondering if you'd like to go out on a date or something sometime -"

She blinked. "Uh, what?"

He was blushing harder now. "I think you're kind of -"

"Oh god," she muttered, then took a deep breath. "Uh, Aegis? No. Just … no."

"Oh shit," he muttered, face so red he almost glowed in the dark. "Maybe I should -"

"Yeah, maybe you should," she told him bluntly, then leaped from the rooftop and turned to shadow.

Slowly, he rose into the air and followed her. _Well, I got shot down in flames that time, didn't I?_

* * *

Still wearing the gloves, Harry stumped over toward the trio of gang members who had entered the Gym. More could be seen, waiting outside.

"I got no money for you punks," he growled. "So why don't you fuck the hell off?"

The gang members looked at one another, then at Harry. One of them stepped forward; his jacket bore a crude depiction of a flaming skull. "Now, you don't get it," he told Harry. "I wasn't _asking._ I was _telling."_

Harry stepped closer, his gloved hands coming up in what Taylor and Danny recognised as his boxing stance. "An' I'm tellin' _you,"_ he growled, "you'll get nothin' outta Harry's Gym, now or ever."

The gang member, tall, young and arrogant, moved his hand slightly; there was a _snik, _and suddenly he was holding a switchblade. "West Side Demons don't take no for an answer, old man," he replied, waving the gleaming blade back and forth. "You don't do business with us, you don't do business at all."

Frustrated anger ran over Harry's face. He was a good boxer; given a fair fight, he could take this punk and any three of his gang. But they weren't likely to _give_ him a fair fight. He could take a hit, but a blade was something else.

But nor could he bow down to them; quite apart from the wound to his pride, there was the fact that the Gym was just barely scraping by, and any sort of 'protection' money would cause it to sink without trace. He clenched his fists inside the gloves; if he came in fast enough and hard enough -

"Hey!"

* * *

Danny and Taylor watched Harry confront the gang members. "This looks like trouble," he murmured.

"I should help -" she began, taking hold of the rope to climb out of the ring again.

He shook his head. "And out yourself as a cape? Not a good idea."

She saw his point; while she didn't fear for her own well-being, Danny would be vulnerable as the father of a known cape, especially one who had defied the gangs.

They saw Harry shape up; he was getting ready to launch an attack. This was not going to go well for him.

Taylor took a deep breath. "Hey!" she called out, across the Gym.

They all turned to face her; she sauntered forward, leaned with her elbows on the corner of the ring nearest to the door.

"What the fuck you want?" the gang leader called back.

"How about this?" she called back. "Your best fighter against Harry's worst. Being me. You win, we cover your payment. I win, you leave. Don't ever come back."

The gang leader snorted. "Yeah, that's gonna happen. You're probably a black belt in kung fu jitsu or something."

"Taylor, no!" shouted Harry. "These guys play for keeps!" He turned to the gang leader. "She's just a kid. Doesn't know what she's talking about."

"What about it, demon-boy?" Taylor called out, ignoring Harry's outburst. "Or is that the West Side Chickens? Can't face a girl in the ring?"

The gang leader took a step forward, his knife coming up, a scowl on his face. "No skinny little bitch calls me chicken and gets away with it."

Taylor flapped her elbows at her sides, and made a realistic clucking noise. "All I can hear is bu-kawk, bu-kawk, bu-kawk, chicken boy."

* * *

Harry saw his chance, and took his shot. His gloved fist lashed out, and took the gang member just under the ear. The boy – scarcely more than eighteen, if he was a day – dropped like he'd been shot. The switchblade skittered away across the floor. He kept moving, stepping in to the next one. A fist powered by a brawny arm, tempered by decades of boxing experience, slammed into the solar plexus of the second guy, putting him down and out. The third one jumped back out of the way, and let out a piercing whistle. Immediately, five more gang members crowded into the Gym, as the one remaining on his feet pulled out a switchblade.

Two bore pipes, one had a chain. The rest pulled out switchblades. Harry did not doubt that there were also guns on them, but they weren't pulling them out yet.

"We're gonna fuck you up for that," snapped the guy who had called for reinforcements; he had to be the second in command. "Nobody drops Jojo and Dog like that, and gets away with it."

"Hey!" yelled Taylor. "What about me? Offer's still open! You fight me and win, you get your money!"

All of the Demons turned to look at her.

"Fuck," muttered one of them. "Is it a girl or a boy?"

"Girl," supplied the second in command. "She said so."

"And she's offering us out?"

"Too damn right I am!" snapped Taylor, having caught that last comment. "I've only been learning this boxing thing for two weeks, and I bet I'm _still_ better than any of you pussies. Or West Side Roast Chickens. Whatever you call yourselves."

"Wait a minute," the second in command called back. "Let me get this straight. You fight our best fighter, and if he wins, you pay the money."

She nodded. "Yeah. And if you lose, you leave this place the fuck alone."

* * *

Danny would have winced to hear the expletive come from her mouth, but there were more immediate things to worry about.

"And four-eyes there," the second in command noted, pointing at Danny. "He gonna interfere?"

"Fuck no," Taylor told him. "He's just my manager. You get into the ring, we fight, I kick your sorry ass, you never come back."

_Come on,_ she silently urged. _Take the bait._

* * *

Jojo was still out cold on the floor, while Dog was curled in a foetal ball, taking no interest in the proceedings; the second in command glanced down at them, then across at Harry.

Harry, for his part, was worried for Taylor's sake. She had provided a fine distraction to let him take down two of the Demons, but now it was six to one, and they were armed and aware. He couldn't do that again.

"One of us fights her, you don't pull that shit again, you hear?" snapped the gang spokesman, addressing Harry.

"Fuck it, if you want to get in the ring, _I'll_ fight you," Harry offered. _Taylor, if one of these guys gets in the ring with you, you're going to get hurt, and I can't stop it._

"Yeah, no, fuck that," scoffed the gang kid. "Get ready to pay up. Crunch, you figure you can shut that bitch's mouth?"

A large and bulky gang member stepped forward; his West Side Demons jacket was tight over his shoulders. "I can take her," he growled. He moved forward, ignoring Danny, and climbed into the ring; Taylor hung back to give him his room.

* * *

Harry moved up to join Danny. "What the hell is she _doing?"_ he muttered.

He was surprised when Danny gave him a tight grin. "Trust me, she knows what she's doing."

Harry looked at the pair in the ring; Taylor, with a single top over a T-shirt, and cargo pants with sneakers, looking positively waif-like against the massively-built Crunch, wearing a jacket that made him look even larger.

"Fuck," he muttered, "I hope she does. Because I sure as hell don't."

* * *

Crunch stalked toward Taylor; she danced back out of the way, holding her gloves up defensively. Harry nodded in approval; he had shown her how to cover up, and at least she was doing that right.

"Hey," she called out. "Is this going to go round by round, or just fight until someone can't get up?"

"Fuck this round by round bullshit," snapped the current gang leader. "Fight."

Taylor grinned. "Okay."

As she stepped in to meet Crunch, he reached for her with hands that were almost the size of her gloves. She brushed one aside, but the other seized her shoulder. He tried to drag her toward him, but she was as solid as a rock. With her left hand, she tapped him negligently under the sternum.

The breath _whoofed_ out of him, and he staggered back, letting her go.

"Oh, come _on,"_ she called out. "I barely hit you."

Harry's jaw slowly dropped; the punch had been swift and accurate, and had apparently had all the force of a feather duster … but it had evidently struck the much brawnier combatant like a sledge-hammer. _What the fuck is going on here?_

* * *

Taylor eyed her opponent warily. She'd used too much amp, she'd known that from the moment she landed the blow. He was angry, and he was watching her hands. Carefully, she scaled back on the use of her power. She had to use _some_ to win this fight, but not so much that it was obvious she was a cape.

Harry had told her that her main advantage was her footwork; she was light on her feet, and could dance around a heavier opponent. So she kept moving, gloves up, watching Crunch's eyes. He came at her, trying to trap her against the ropes. She heard the shouts and heckling from the assembled gang members, some quite obscene.

Crunch didn't try to grab her again; he'd learned his lesson. Instead, he bunched his fist and threw a punch. She didn't need Harry's involuntary yell of "Keep your guard up!"; her gloves were already up, and she took the punch on them. He swung again, going lower this time. She sneaked in a level of amp, and took it on her forearms.

This fight wasn't over yet; in fact, it had hardly begun. But she was starting to feel confident again. The lessons that Harry had given her were starting to make more sense now, starting to come together. When your opponent did _this,_ you did _that,_ because he was going to try _this._

* * *

Of course, were she simply what she seemed to be, a novice boxer, her two weeks of training would never have sufficed. But she had two things going for her. One was the fact that she had already been in one knock-down drag-out brawl, with Hookwolf. And the second was the ability to use amp to shore up her weak technique. But the boxing training was really starting to help her, show her how she should be doing it.

She slipped another punch from the now-frustrated Crunch. Before he had a chance to get his own guard up, she shaped up and threw a hard left at his head. She used no amp at all; to her delight, he rocked back as she connected.

The fight had already been going for a good minute and a half; roughly a minute and twenty seconds longer than the gang had expected it to go for. They stood, open-mouthed, as the skinny girl landed another punch on their champion. So far, all she'd done was hit him once and run away, or so they saw it. It wasn't like there was very far she could run in the ring; he should have caught up with her and flattened her by now.

* * *

Danny could understand why it was taking so long. _She can't make it look too easy._ But he was woefully under-educated about the niceties of a boxing match, and so he turned to Harry.

"Is it just me," he asked in an undertone, "or is she running away a lot?"

Harry's tone was cautiously pleased as he replied. "She's playing it smart. Wearing him down. But where she's getting it from, I have no idea."

_Trust me,_ thought Danny, _you really do have no idea._

And then Taylor shaped up once more and fired a straight right into Crunch's chest. And in doing so, she dropped her shoulder.

"No -!" muttered Harry, almost under his breath.

* * *

Too late, Taylor recalled Harry's warning, as Crunch saw the opening and took it. His fist exploded against the side of her jaw; only a level of amp saved her from being knocked clean out. As it was, she staggered sideways into the ropes. Stars swam behind her eyes, and her knees buckled.

Dimly she heard Danny shout a warning, and then Crunch was _right there,_ his fist looming. She tried to lurch away from the ropes, but some of the gang members had grabbed her clothes and were holding her in place.

Desperately, she brought up her gloves; he tried to punch right through her guard, but she added another couple of levels of amp, and his fist skidded off to hit her shoulder, and glanced off once more. On sheer instinct, she retaliated with a left that rocked him on his heels, then she slashed her arm downward, breaking the grips that the gang members had on her clothes.

Her head began to clear; she stepped away from the ropes, and moved in on the now wary-looking Crunch. And well he should be wary; she had just weathered his best hit, and had not gone down. As she moved in on him with intent, he backpedalled.

"Come on," she taunted him. "Can't win a fight against a girl on your own? Gotta have your boys hold me down?"

He came for her then, in a rush, trying to overpower her with his superior weight. She skipped to the side and let him have a one-two jab in the ribs; if a little amp slipped in there, then it wasn't something she was worried about. Air _whoofed_ out of him again, and he staggered to the side.

He didn't lack for guts, she had to give him that. As she came in for him, he swung hard at her; she slipped the blow, then gave him one in the solar plexus and one in the chest. And then, for good measure, she planted a straight right on the point of his jaw.

And _this_ time, she didn't drop her shoulder. And nor did she use amp. But he fell anyway, measuring his length on the canvas.

Dead silence fell across Harry's Gym.

"Okay," she announced, facing the West Side Demons. "A deal's a deal. I beat your boy -"

"Taylor!" shouted Harry.

* * *

She half-turned, bringing her arm up just in time; Crunch had staggered to his feet, and brought his fist around in an attempt to remove her head from her shoulders. She deflected the blow so that it merely skidded off her head, but her ears still rang from the impact. Spinning like a ballerina, she faced him once more. Touching her glove to her ear, she inspected the result; red blood stained the blue-dyed leather.

"Right," she told him grimly, wiping the glove on her pants leg. "No more Miss Nice Girl."

He swung at her; she deflected it, and jarred him with a left to the chest, a right to the ribs, and then another left to the jaw. He staggered, so she fired another combination into his body. And another. And another. She wasn't using any amp at all this time; she was just firming up her technique, using his body as the punching bag. And while she still didn't have a great deal of power in her arms, he was already quite punished from her earlier blows, and could not take much more.

She saw him rally, and try to come back one more time. It was in his eyes, his stance, the way he held his hands. He swung his fist, but that was never the blow that was intended to land. Instead, his foot swept up, aiming at her stomach.

She caught it.

Clasping it between her gloved hands, she walked backward, forcing him to hop awkwardly to keep up. When he fell over, she released the leg and stood back. "Ready to give up?" she asked sweetly.

His reply was loaded almost completely with expletives; she decided to take that as a no.

* * *

This time, when he got up, she knocked him down again. A straight left-right-left to the face, one after the other. No amp, just her own natural strength, and technique. He got up again. She knocked him down again.

When she put him on the canvas for the third time, he stayed down.

This time, she had learned her lesson; she did not turn her back on him when she addressed the Demons. She only said one word.

"Next?"

There were no takers.

* * *

As the West Side Demons carried their fallen comrades from the Gym, Harry got a first aid kit and began to work on Taylor's ear.

"They'll be back," he commented worriedly.

"Let me know if they do come back," she advised him. Danny finished undoing her laces, and she pulled the gloves off. "Ow, that stings."

"That's because you let him hit you," he told her reprovingly. "And how's your jaw?"

"Painful," she admitted. "You were right about dropping my shoulder."

"Of course I was bloody well right," he snorted. "Though how you pulled that off, I have no idea."

"Because you're an awesome teacher?" Taylor ventured hopefully.

"Yeah, sure, pull the other one," he growled. "Your technique is sloppy as hell, and I kept expecting you to simply lose it, but you managed to make it work. How?"

She took a deep breath. "Uh ..."

Danny met her gaze, his expression equally concerned. Silently, she asked him the question. _Do I tell him?_

He pondered it for a long moment, then nodded. _Yeah._

"Okay," she began. "You've got to promise not to tell anyone, okay?"

"Tell anyone what?" he asked.

"Well, there's something you need to know ..."

* * *

"Holy crap," breathed Sophia and Emma, more or less in unison.

Sophia turned a mock-accusatory glare on Taylor. "So _that's_ where you've been going."

Taylor nodded. "It's helping, it really is. Harry's got me training, and using amp only when I have to. It's good discipline for me. When we spar, he wears head protection, but I wear none. So when I drop my guard, he pops me one. It's a really good reminder."

"I _wondered_ where you got the black eye from," muttered Sophia. "I was gonna go out and find that Crunch guy, and explain to him why he doesn't hit my girlfriend."

Silence fell across the table, and then she realised what she'd just said. "Oh god," she blurted, "I didn't mean -"

Taylor put a hand on hers. "It's okay," she told Sophia softly. "I appreciate the sentiment." She said no more, but her smile told Sophia volumes.

Emma cleared her throat, to break the awkward silence that had fallen once more. "So, uh, Sophia, how are you going with the Wards?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "I have no idea. I get along with half of them, and the other half think I'm a total bitch. I'm trying, oh god I'm trying. But it's just so _hard._"

Taylor got up from her chair and sat down next to Sophia. Wrapping her arms around the shorter girl, she held her close. Sophia laid her head on Taylor's chest, and sniffled a little. "I _miss_ you," she whispered.

Taylor stroked her hair. "Just a little more training," she promised. "When I feel comfortable with my progress, I'll apply to join the Wards."

Sophia's arms went around Taylor.

"Oh god," she breathed feelingly, "I can't wait."

"Nor can I," Taylor assured her. "Nor can I."

* * *

End of Chapter Eleven


	12. Chapter 12

**Shadow Stalker: Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part Twelve: Big Boys Rules

* * *

It was Saturday evening; the sun was just setting, and those street-lights still functioning had started to come up outside. Harry's Gym was still open, but only technically so. Inside, most of the overhead lights had been switched off; only those around the boxing ring were still lit. Beside the ring, Danny Hebert sat on a folding chair, a duffel bag by his side. Within the ring, two people sparred.

They were somewhat mismatched; one was tall and slim and young, while the other was shorter, heavy-set and into his later years. He moved ponderously, but with the skill of years in the ring. She was less sure of herself, but moved more quickly, more lightly. For the most part, that is.

For all that more than forty years separated them in age, there was a bond between them, something that had started with mutual respect and had matured into friendship.

Of course, Taylor had had to earn Harry's respect the hard way; by getting in there and doing the work. She'd done bag work until she knew how to put her weight behind a punch; morning and afternoon, she'd gone running. When she got to the gym, she either lifted weights or got to work with the skipping rope until Harry got around to seeing her. And then, in the ring, she sparred.

While she still didn't have what Harry called 'real' muscle, nor had the time been wasted; she was stronger than she had been, and could hold her own in the ring. Nor was she as gawky and awkward as she had been; the training had let her work on her balance and agility, so now she was aware of every shift of her weight, of the placement of her feet.

* * *

As she moved toward Harry with her gloves up, Danny allowed himself to feel a glow of pride. Far from the unsure novice who had first slipped on a pair of gloves, Taylor now moved with confidence and surety. If she didn't know everything about boxing, she was certainly better at it than she had been when she started, and she was willing to learn what she didn't know.

And then, of course, was the special aspect about her.

* * *

"Guard up," directed Harry. "Got yer amps on?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah," she replied, and fired a right that Harry slipped off of his gloves.

Harry grunted in approval. Taylor wasn't dropping her shoulder any more with her straight right; a tiny scar on her right ear was the reminder of the last time she'd done that. But that didn't mean that her technique was flawless, just yet.

He feinted with a left and then a right, then came in with the left again, slipping past her guard to get her in the ribs. She took a step back, with a pained grunt; even with a few levels of amp, Harry could still hit hard enough to almost wind her.

"Come on!" he snapped. "I just laid a glove on you! What are you gonna do about it?"

She bit back the obvious retort, and got her guard up again; his next punch skidded off of her gloves.

"Better," he allowed. "Don't let yourself be led off track." She came in with a hard left; he ducked to the side, to let it slide by. When she was carrying this level of amp, it was like he was facing someone of his own heft and strength, or maybe a little more. He could feel the sheer power in her blows, like a steam-hammer smashing into his gloves.

_With a bit more training, this kid could hit the big time. If she wasn't a cape. Ah well._

He fired off a riposte that she just barely managed to slip; she covered up again, watching him warily.

"When you're amped up, your timing's a hair off," he advised her. "You're just that fraction slower. You need to work on that, compensate for it."

He came in again, pounding on her guard, trying to get around it and tag her again. She gave ground, robbing his blows of their power. And then she saw an opening and took it, sending a punch that smacked into his head protector and still made his head ring.

Ceasing the assault, he stepped back and brought his guard up, waiting for his head to clear.

"Sorry," Taylor apologised at once. "Are you all right?"

He mustered a grin. "I'm good. I haven't been tapped like that for some time. You got me right in the sweet spot; if I wasn't wearing this protector, I'd be on the mat."

Working his jaw, he stepped forward again. "Okay, now drop a couple levels of amp, and let's go again. Work on your defence, make sure I can't get through. 'Cause if I tag you now, it's gonna sting."

Obediently, she brought up her gloves. "Ready."

* * *

"Where's Shadow Stalker?"

Aegis glanced at Triumph. "She took a day. Said she wanted some home time."

"Dammit," growled the leader of the Wards. "She couldn't have picked a worse time."

_Well, it's not like she did it on purpose._ "Should I give her a call?"

Rory frowned for a moment. "No, we should be okay. But I'll need to talk to her, when she gets in. How many days is this that she's taken in the last month?"

Aegis thought back. "Five, but one of those was when her mom was sick -"

"But nothing, Carlos!" snapped Triumph. "She needs to run these days off past me."

She didn't, not really, Aegis knew. All she needed was the permission of Deputy Renick. But it was customary to submit day-leave permissions to the Wards leader, who would then pass them on to the Deputy Director.

He thought he knew why Sophia had done it this way, too; she tended to take a day each time she clashed with Rory. She simply would not want to come into contact with Triumph until she'd had time to cool off. He wasn't sure if Rory got this too, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask.

Shadow Stalker, Aegis had decided, wasn't quite the problem child that Triumph seemed to think she was. To give the Wards leader his due, he hadn't simply given up on her, but nor did his approach seem to be working. Aegis wasn't quite sure what Sophia's problem was, but he knew that whatever it was, it was bothering her.

_Maybe a day at home will help her get her head together._

* * *

The ninja ran forward, vaulted a waist-high barrier, and kicked the guard in the centre of the chest. As a continuation of the move, he swivelled and shot another guard in the face with a wrist crossbow. The first guard tried to rise; the ninja stamped down once, and the guard slumped back with a broken neck.

"Damn," Terry commented admiringly. "You're scary good with those moves." He worked his own controller; his special ops soldier raked machine-gun fire over a row of bad guys.

"Wanna duck, big bro," Sophia warned him.

"What? No, I'm good – shit!"

Terry watched in disbelief as his on-screen avatar was blasted sideways. His health bar dipped alarmingly. And then the ninja was there, throwing down smoke bombs and loosing crossbow bolts to keep off the enemy.

"Saw the guy with the grenade launcher," she explained. "Come on, I saw a health kit in the next room. You go, I'll cover you."

"Thanks, sis," Terry responded, as the soldier climbed to his feet. "You're the best." He tilted his head. "You know, ever since you got that summer job, you've been a lot nicer. What is it you do there, anyway?"

"Oh, stuff," she replied vaguely. "Watch it. Sniper."

"Whoa, crap!" he yelped, as the soldier dived for cover.

Sophia grinned as the game went on. This was actually kind of fun, playing these games with her older brother. She hadn't connected with him like this in forever.

_I suppose I **am** being nicer. Trying to be a better person with the Wards is spilling over into my private life. Who knew?_

It felt kind of good.

* * *

With the loss of Hookwolf, the Empire Eighty-Eight had taken a significant hit. Purity had left the ranks the year before, citing irreconcilable differences with Kaiser, and Night, Fog and Crusader had also chosen to sever ties at the same time.

Lung had decided that the time was ripe to make a move on Empire territory. Along with Oni Lee, he'd brought his latest cape recruit, a fifteen year old boy who called himself Tsunami. The child wasn't very popular in the cape community, given his powerset – the creation and control of water – but he was Asian, and that was all that counted.

Flanked by his loyal henchmen – also Asian, to a man – Lung stalked down the street. Tsunami walked behind him, trying to project one-tenth the menace that the leader of the ABB could muster. He wasn't doing so well, given that his costume consisted primarily of shades of blue and green in a wavy pattern. Oni Lee was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't particularly surprising.

The area of land that Lung was intent on seizing was a major supply hub for the city's drug smuggling rackets. The men who actually cooked up the drugs in the illicit labs were independents, but they sold to whoever controlled the block; Lung didn't have to intimidate them, just the men who guarded them.

Unfortunately, Kaiser had obviously gotten a tip on the takeover bid; as he turned from a side-street on to a major thoroughfare, Lung saw that this would not be as cut and dried as he had first thought.

Behind his metal mask, he smiled.

_Good. Kaiser needs to see my strength._

* * *

Armsmaster turned to Velocity. "Where's Miss Militia, Assault and Battery?"

Velocity pointed down the street. "Down that way a bit. This isn't the only fight going on. They're dealing with more ABB thugs."

"Wonderful." He looked down at the battleground below. "Let's hope they get finished soon. We're good, but this might be more than you, me and Falchion can handle."

The third Protectorate cape leaned over the side of the building to look, then straightened up with his hand in the small of his back. "I might be getting along a bit, young fellow, but the Falchion can still kick serious ass when need be."

Velocity pointed. "Yeah, but that's _Lung_ down there. He went toe to toe with freaking _Leviathan."_

Falchion considered that. "Your point is valid. He does seem to be holding his own rather well." He scratched his greying goatee. "I shall engage the others. You two take Lung."

Armsmaster shook his head. "Still too many of them. I've got the Wards on standby; I'll call them in."

Falchion raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Sending _children _against that monster?"

Armsmaster shook his head. "No. Triumph's a good leader. They can deal with the B-listers. _We'll_ take on Lung."

"As you wish." Falchion drew his blade; it gleamed in the last light of sunset. Armsmaster wasn't quite sure how he always managed to strike a dramatic pose so easily, without looking stupid. He supposed that it was the ease of long practice. Or maybe, a minor super-power. He'd heard of stranger things.

* * *

It wasn't long before they heard in their earpieces, _"Triumph here. Wards are on site, ready for orders."_

"Listen carefully, Wards," Armsmaster stated. "Do not, repeat _not,_ engage Lung. Keep the smaller fry off of our backs, subdue and apprehend where possible. Watch each others' backs, and keep an eye out for traps. Understood?"

"_Roger that, sir," _agreed Triumph eagerly. _"I'm ready to show you how my Wards can operate."_

Falchion extended his blade toward an exposed pipe, causing a spark to _pop_ between the tip of the blade and the pipe in question. "Whenever you're ready, valiant leader," he intoned.

Armsmaster hid a smile; Falchion was one of the veterans of the first generation of the Protectorate. He was considering retirement now, but he was one of the heroes that Armsmaster had looked up to; Armsmaster had even looked into patterning his heroic identity off of Falchion's. In costume, the older hero always managed to sound like an extra from a Dumas novel, but not in a corny way; somehow, he just managed to pull it off.

"Let's do this," Armsmaster decided, and they went in for the attack.

* * *

Sophia's ninja spun and danced between the assembled enemy guards. Glinting blades in each hand struck and drew blood with every move; the ones a little farther away fell to Terry's relentlessly accurate rifle fire. Steadily, they advanced through the enemy citadel, acting in concert.

The last guard fell; before them, a vast iron door barred their way. Sophia glanced at Terry and grinned. "We make an awesome team, big bro."

Terry nodded. "Now, all we gotta do is get through this door."

"And beat the living bejeesus out of whatever's on the other side," Sophia finished. Her ninja sidled up to the door. "Hey, did you remember to pick up that -"

With a tremendous rumble, the immense doors parted slowly and slid back. From within, marching ponderously forward, came a gigantic humanoid robot.

Terry and Sophia met each others' gaze. As one, they chorused, "Grenade launcher!"

* * *

Naomi Hess heard her two older children chatting as they played their computer game, and smiled. _It's nice to have them getting along so well. The Wards must be a good influence on her._

The phone rang, and she put down the iron so that she could answer it.

"Hello?"

The voice belonged to a teenage girl, if she was any judge. _"Ah, hi, is this Mrs Hess? Sophia's mother?"_

"Yes it is," Naomi replied. "Who is this, may I ask?"

"_Ah, this is V. You know, Sophia's friend from work?"_

Naomi smiled slightly. "Yes, I've met you. Would you like to talk to Sophia?"

"_Yes, thank you, Mrs Hess,"_ Vista answered at once.

Naomi put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Sophia! Telephone!"

* * *

The launcher fired off a series of grenades; explosions bloomed on the metal carapace of the giant robot. "Aim for the head!" Sophia suggested. Then her mother called out.

"Ah, crap," she exclaimed. "You want to pause?"

"Sure thing," Terry replied. "Don't be too long."

Sophia scrambled to her feet and dashed into the kitchen. "Thanks, mom," she acknowledged as she took the receiver from her mother's hand. "Hello?"

"_Sophia, this is Vista," _she heard. _"I know it's your day off and all, but we're on standby to go help the Protectorate against the ABB and the Empire Eighty-Eight. I thought you might want to be in on this."_

"Holy shit, really?" she blurted. "What's going on? And where?"

"_We think it's because Hookwolf is gone." _Missy informed her. _"The ABB's grabbing territory."_

"That actually makes sense," Sophia mused. "After Purity, Hookwolf's one of their big hitters."

"_Yeah,"_ agreed Missy. _"Anyway, giving you the heads-up, just in case you wanted to join in."_

Sophia was torn; she honestly wanted to be there, to help the team. But she'd had a huge argument with Triumph the day before, and she didn't want to have to face him again in a hurry.

With a sigh, she bit the bullet. "Where is this at?"

Vista told her; she exchanged pleasantries, hung up, and turned to her mother. "I need to go. The team needs me."

Her mother shot her a worried look. "Is there trouble?"

Sophia nodded. "Possibly. Can you take me?"

"Of course. Get your things."

* * *

Terry looked up as Sophia came back into the room. "Ready to get back to kicking robo-butt?" he asked cheerfully.

She gave him a regretful look. "Uh, sorry, big bro, but I gotta bail. One of my friends desperately needs help with, uh, her homework, so Mom's gonna drive me over."

He stared at her. "What the hell? Soph, we're in the _middle_ of this! The boss fight! We're in the zone!"

She shook her head, biting her lip. "Really sorry, Terry. Look, save it and we'll finish it when I get back."

Leaving him staring after her, she dashed upstairs, reappearing shortly after with her backpack slung over her shoulder. "Ready to go, Mom?"

Their mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Ready, Sophita. Terry, Cassie's been fed and I've put her down. Keep an ear out for her? Good boy."

He watched as his mother and sister hustled out the front door. Moments later, he heard the car pulling away from the curb.

_Now what the fuck was **that** all about?_

* * *

Taylor had scaled her amps all the way down; she was facing Harry with nothing between her and his fists but the lessons which he had painstakingly drummed into her. She was fighting fully defensively now, covering up whenever and wherever she could. Still, Harry pressed her relentlessly, looking for holes in her defence, leaving himself open to see if she would take the bait.

At the ringside, Danny stood and stretched. Although watching Taylor train was interesting and educational, he still needed to move around from time to time. Strolling into Harry's little office, he drew a cup of water from the cooler in the corner.

The TV on Harry's desk was on nearly all the time, with the sound down. Danny glanced at it, then almost dropped the cup in his haste to turn the sound up.

"_\- and grab by one of the gangs has turned into open warfare. Protectorate forces are on site, with PRT on the way. There's word that the Wards are also going to be pitching in. Oh, and there goes Armsmaster, with Velocity and Falchion!"_

Leaving the TV, he ran back out into the gym area. Taylor was exchanging cautious blows with Harry, while the latter probed her defenses.

Danny waited for a lull, then raised his voice. "Taylor! Something's going on! There's a cape battle! The Wards are in it!"

Taylor raised her gloves and stepped back, before turning to Danny. "What? Where did you hear this? Is Sophia in it?"

He pointed at the office. "It's on TV. They just said the Wards."

Taylor slipped through the ropes and ran into the office; Danny and Harry, catching up, saw her leaning with her gloves on the desk, watching the broadcast. The Protectorate capes were engaging Lung, with limited success, while the Wards took on the other capes.

"I can't see Sophia," Danny noted.

"Doesn't mean anything," Taylor pointed out. "She's good at not being seen, and the camera angle's not the best." She turned and looked at Harry through her sports goggles. "Look, sorry, I gotta go. I gotta help."

Harry nodded and put a massive gloved hand on her shoulder. "Sure. Go save the world, kid." He shaped up to her. "Take a piece off of 'em for me."

She touched her gloves to his. "Will do. Dad, unlace me?"

With the ease of practice, Danny undid her glove laces so that she could pull them off. "Your stuff's in the bag," he told her. "I got it made up a while ago, and I've been carrying it around ever since."

"I know," she replied with a warm smile. "Thanks."

She hurried out of the small office, leaving Danny to unlace Harry's gloves. Danny nodded to the boxer. "Well, it's time to go and see how well she's learned her lessons."

Harry smiled faintly. "I think she'll do fine. She's a good kid, and she's got all the heart in the world."

"Yeah," agreed Danny. "But I'll still worry. That's my right and privilege."

At a call from Taylor, he hurried out after her. She'd taken the bag into the changing room; now she was emerging, wearing the rugged clothes, the long coat, the heavy boots. Over her eyes, she was pulling the goggles he had made, spray-painted bronze like the last set. He'd added one more touch; covering her hands, Taylor wore heavy gloves, almost gauntlets. With those on her hands, she'd be able to throw a serious punch, even without amp.

"Ready to roll, Dad?" she asked. Her face was utterly serious.

He nodded. "Ready to roll."

* * *

Taylor waved as Harry emerged from the office. "Later, Harry."

Harry stumped on over, looking her up and down. "Take care, kid," he told her gruffly, then made a fist and touched it to her gauntleted hand. "Show 'em what Harry's Gym can teach a body."

She gave him a brilliant smile, bumping her fist to his. "Will do."

With her father following, she left the building. Harry stood in the doorway, watching as they drove away, then slowly closed and locked the door.

Switching off lights as he went, he headed back to his office. Pulling up a chair, he sat and watched the unfolding drama of the cape fight.

* * *

Velocity had zigged when he should have zagged, and he'd been thrown into a heap of rubble by Lung's prodigious strength. He had gotten up almost at once, but something was wrong with his ankle, and he could scarcely hobble along.

Falchion had done little better; while he had faced off well against Lung, and even scored solid hits against the monstrous cape, the energy with which he infused his sword did not appear to have a lasting effect. Still and all, he had put up a good show, using every trick at his disposal to distract Lung, to give Armsmaster a chance to strike a telling blow.

However, he wasn't young any more, and the pace of the battle was wearing on him. He was starting to slow down, starting to make mistakes.

The other capes – Tsunami, Stormtiger, Victor, Othala, and Rune – had been augmented by Oni Lee, and that had made the Wards' jobs very difficult indeed. While the ABB capes were not exactly fighting shoulder to shoulder with the Empire parahumans, they were failing to take opportunities to strike at their nominal foes, when the latter were engaged with the Wards. And it did not help matters when Oni Lee teleported in, slashed with a knife or dropped a grenade, then teleported out, leaving a clone to crumble to ash seconds later. Triumph had already been caught by one such blast, and was unconscious on the ground.

Aegis was facing off with Stormtiger, doing his best to lay punches on the Empire cape, while weathering slashes from the latter's air-claws. Kid Win duelled with Rune, the two teens weaving about each other on their respective flying devices. Laser pistol bolts were deflected by floating garbage can lids, while the hero dodged and ducked the garbage cans themselves.

Clockblocker had been hit by a blast of water from Tsunami's mouth; he had frozen it, and Tsunami, but had been trapped in the solid water in the process. Vista, on the other hand, was trying to keep away from Victor without straying too far from her team in the process; the skill-thief was as nimble and agile as a human could be, and every time she tried to double back to help someone, he closed with her. Time and again, Gallant hit him with stunning bolts, but Victor merely shrugged them off; Othala had worked her magic and made him invulnerable.

* * *

Naomi drove into a narrow side street; Sophia, fully costumed, dived out through the door in shadow form. Naomi kept on driving.

The fight was about half a block ahead; Sophia took to the rooftops, and started forward, gliding between the buildings in shadow form.

As she came within sight of the battleground, the tide began to turn, and not in a good way. Falchion, obviously at his limits, staggered back out of the fight, leaning on his knees and panting heavily. This left Armsmaster as Lung's sole opponent; never a good place to be.

Tsunami came out of the freeze, and turned his attention upward. He vomited a huge stream of water skyward; it struck Kid Win, knocking him off of his brand new hoverboard.

Aegis heard his teammate's cry for help, and abandoned his opponent to save his teammate. He paid for his loyalty; Stormtiger followed him on, raking his claws across Aegis' back, even as the teenager caught Kid Win. Aegis cried out and dropped him again; the armoured teen fell heavily to the ground.

Gallant turned to stun Stormtiger, but that merely gave Victor the chance to close with him; a jab to the side of the neck, and the empath was left lying stunned on the ground.

"Gallant!" cried Vista; trying to get to his side; distracted, she was easy prey for Tsunami, who hit her with a wave of water, slamming her into a building.

As Clockblocker tried to get close to the teenage villain, a garbage can dropped over his head, then a steel cable wrapped around it, crunching it tight around his upper body. Rune grinned as she gestured to wrap the cable tighter and tighter …

A crossbow arrow caught her in the shoulder; the glass vial broke, and she collapsed as the tranquilliser took effect. The car she was standing on fell to the ground, with her on top of it. Fortunately for her, she hadn't been too far up at the time.

This was not a good thing for Othala; she had been sharing Rune's transport as a way to keep out of the battle. She slipped and fell from the car as it hit the ground, and let out a cry of pain. Victor turned and stared, then started toward her. He watched as a second arrow struck her, causing her to crumple to the ground.

Turning, he spotted the culprit; Shadow Stalker, crouching on top of a mound of rubble as she reloaded her crossbows.

"You bitch!" he screamed, and ran in that direction. He had not crossed half the distance before she had finished reloading; an arrow struck him in the chest … and bounced. He sneered as he closed with her, only to watch her turn to shadow and leap up and over him.

She turned solid, momentarily, to send her second arrow at Tsunami. The water-controlling villain staggered, then pulled out the arrow. "Liquid control, bitch!" he shouted.

* * *

Shadow Stalker rolled her eyes behind her mask as she reloaded again. She had it down to a fine art; she knew exactly how long it would take. Just before Victor reached her, she went to shadow once more; he leaped at her, just as Tsunami unleashed another surge of water at her. Victor was smashed sideways, and she allowed herself a private grin of triumph. _Gotcha._

In midair, she went solid once more, and shot another arrow at Tsunami. This one was different, with a thicker shaft. It was, in fact, the taser arrow that Kid Win had worked out for her. It had done well in the trials, but this was its first field use.

It struck; an instant later, Tsunami convulsed and fell to the ground. _And that's one for Chris,_ she told herself with a grin.

Victor was getting to his feet. Sophia measured the distance by eye, then moved away. _I have to time this just right …_

A heavy weight smashed into her, and she was thrown sideways. Her head hit the ground, and the world spun. She went to shadow by reflex, and the thing that had hit her fell to the ground. She moved out of the way, turned solid and looked back; it was Aegis. He had been horribly cut up; she could tell that he was still alive, but he was barely able to move. Stormtiger had brutalised him, and was now moving in on her. She shot the tranquilliser arrow by reflex; Stormtiger brushed it out of the air.

She went ghostly once more, as the two Empire villains moved in on her; it was harder to load her crossbows in her shadow state, but it was her only option.

* * *

Armsmaster leaped, ducked, rolled, spun and did his best to prevent Lung from scoring on him. His armour already bore several deep gouges from the monster cape's claws, and more than one scorch mark from Lung's fire breath. He had struck Lung several times with his halberd, and he'd hurt the monster, but it seemed that the ABB cape was already healing the damage.

Off to the side, he saw that the Wards were mostly down, along with most of the Empire capes. But all that was left was Shadow Stalker, facing Victor and Stormtiger.

"Shadow Stalker!" he snapped. "Get out of there!"

She didn't seem to hear him. _This is bad. This is really bad._

* * *

Taking a taser arrow by its shaft, Sophia went to shadow, and then went solid again, leaving the arrow stuck in Victor's shoulder. He struck out, smashing his heel into her solar plexus, even as the taser discharged its capacitor into his shoulder. She gagged and fell to the ground, dropping her crossbows; he convulsed and toppled.

Stormtiger stepped in, striking at her with his air claws; she went shadow and rolled away. He turned and moved toward where Vista lay barely conscious, nearby. Despite the ringing in her ears, the blackness encroaching around her vision, she somehow got to her feet, and leaped, shadow-gliding toward him, toward Vista. As the claws came down, she interposed herself, going solid. Her arm came up, taking the blow; she screamed as his claws drew blood. With a brittle crack, her forearm broke.

He drew back his arm once more; she had nothing left. Hunching over Vista, she prepared for the end.

* * *

Shadow Stalker's scream distracted Armsmaster at just the wrong moment; Lung's swinging claw, instead of being deflected by the halberd, struck it cleanly and broke it in two. He was left holding two halves, sparking from the break. Some functions remained, but it was no longer the potent weapon that he had been using to that point.

This had just gone from bad to very, very bad.

* * *

**THOOOM.**

Stormtiger heard the sound from behind him. It was as if someone had dropped a very heavy weight, from quite a distance up. He half-turned, keeping an eye on the shadow bitch.

A girl stood there, wearing a long coat which flapped in the breeze. She was almost as tall as him, but much skinnier; under the coat, she wore all black. Her eyes were obscured by bronze-painted goggles. When she spoke, it was as if several dozen people were talking in unison.

"_Get away from her, you son of a bitch."_

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" he blurted.

She stepped forward, and hit him in the centre of the chest with the palm of her gloved hand; he brought up his arm to block her, but failed utterly to do so. The blow, when it struck, smashed him backward with the force of a freight train; he hit the brick wall twenty feet away, and was already unconscious when he slid to the ground.

* * *

Sophia looked up at Taylor; from this point of view, she seemed to bestride the world. A nod, and then she was gone. Sophia tried to turn her head, to watch her, but the pain that was radiating through her body overwhelmed everything.

Blackness overcame her.

* * *

"_**Lung!"**_

The leader of the ABB looked around with irritation; he finally had Armsmaster where he wanted him. The armoured hero was hurt, backed up against a wall, and his stupid broken weapon would not help him any more.

The girl who stood there could not have been more than fifteen, despite the bulking effect of the long coat she wore. She stared at him defiantly from behind bronze-painted goggles.

"_Leave him,"_ she ordered imperiously. _"You want a fight, I'll give you a fight."_

He began to laugh uproariously. This was too funny. This little skinny weed, offering to fight him? _I am **Lung.**_

And then she grabbed him by the arm and threw him thirty feet.

That changed _everything._

* * *

Taylor stalked toward Lung, as he began to climb to his feet. He was no longer laughing, she noted. His eyes were fixed on her, and he was beginning to grow larger as she watched.

That was fine; she was adding on the amps herself.

She had finally cracked it, after a remark by Harry. He had noted that an old diving buddy of him had told him about the bends, how coming back up too fast from deep down, the sudden release of pressure could cause nitrogen bubbles in the bloodstream.

"What if," he'd said, "your amps are doing the same but in reverse? Putting them on too quickly hurts, because your body needs time to adjust?"

And so, she was adding the amps slowly, rather than just grabbing all the power-up she could, all at once. … _20, 21, 22, 23 …_

And sure enough, she could feel her body altering in some indefinable way, taking on the amps, allowing it to happen. Not fighting the effect.

Lung roared, lunged at her. He opened his jaws wide, blasting flame at her.

She brought up her arms, half-turning away protecting her eyes and hair, as it washed over her.

_The coat's made of fireproof material. Thanks, Dad._

Then she stepped in and punched him.

* * *

Lung stared as the girl weathered the blast of flame, as if it had been nothing. Then she hit him. It was like being punched by Alexandria; he did not fall, but there was a _dent_ there, in the shape of her fist. He staggered back a few steps, then came in at her.

She hit him again.

* * *

_Lung doesn't really know how to fight._ Taylor realised this; his claw-swipe had been telegraphed from the instant he began the move, and it had been child's play to duck past it and lay another hard left into his breadbasket.

However, it would take more than a couple of punches to lay this guy out, so she kept on adding the amps. _… 31, 32, 33, 34 …_

As Harry had warned her, this slowed her fractionally; Lung's next attack was more on target. But she slipped it aside as she had learned how, never letting the claws get a purchase on her.

Even at this level of amp, he was frighteningly powerful; she did not want him to land a good blow. The temptation to just pile on the amps was almost overwhelming, but she did not give in to it. Lung was strong and getting stronger; well then, so was she. For the moment, she had to ride it out, focus on the amps, and outlast the monster in front of her.

* * *

Falchion helped Armsmaster to his feet. "You all right, youngster?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," the armoured hero assured him. "Armour took most of it."

That wasn't entirely true, Armsmaster knew; he was fairly sure that he'd taken a cracked rib or two, perhaps a broken one. But he could stand, so he had to tough it out.

"Who's that fighting Lung?" asked Falchion.

Armsmaster got his first good look at the cape currently locked in combat with the leader of the ABB. Long hair, a voluminous long-coat, goggles, heavy boots and gloves. Even with all that, she was so skinny that a stiff breeze should blow her away, but she was taking hits that would make Alexandria wince. And she was returning them too; every punch she threw, hit. And every punch that hit, told. He could feel the impacts from where he stood.

Lung's flames now enveloped him; to attack him, she had to stand within them. This did not seem to be bothering her.

"Breaker," he told Falchion. "Her name's Breaker."

* * *

Taylor breathed in deeply through her nostrils, riding the wave of her amps. She was scoring with more punches now, and hitting him harder. Hurting him. He was getting bigger, growing taller. But that just gave her a bigger target to hit.

The power sang in her blood, even as she continued to amp up. This was farther than she'd ever gone before, even when she'd caught that bullet, even when she'd gone up against Hookwolf. She was stronger now, fitter. She knew more about how to throw a punch. Against Hookwolf, she had won by simply overpowering him; with Lung, this threatened to be a much more problematic proposition.

He hunched his back, the scales splitting. Wings emerged, unfurled.

_**"No,"**_ she growled. _**"Not that easily."**_

Leaping into the air - she left footprints six inches deep - she vaulted twelve feet straight up. Lung reached for her, but she struck first; a punch straight down, at the top of his head. His skull did not shatter, and his neck did not break, but only because of the size and weight which he had acquired over the course of the battle. The force of her blow drove him straight down, into a crater of his own making. And while he lay there, briefly stunned, she landed atop his prone body.

Laying hold of his right wing, she braced herself and ripped it out of his back; he bellowed in agony, but the wing came away. Blood spurted from the severed joint; she tossed the wing aside lightly.

* * *

The pain was tremendous; never since Leviathan had he been treated so roughly. He tried to throw her off, but her vastly increased mass defeated him; she took hold of his other wing. _**"Surrender,"**_ she told him, bracing herself.

"NEVER!" he bellowed, heaving upward with a tremendous effort, so that she lost her footing.

More agile than he had seemed, he scrambled to his feet, leaning to one side to compensate for the missing wing. Where the girl had fallen, she had crushed the rocks and concrete for a yard all around. Leaning down, he took hold of her head in his great hands. Inhaling deeply, he breathed fire; she could not dodge, could not duck.

When it cleared, she was still there; where he expected a scorched skull, or at least burning agony, she was merely looking back at him with a contemplative expression. Her skin and hair were mildly singed, but that was it.

_**"Boo,"**_ she told him, and brought her arms up. His grip on her was broken with insulting ease, and then she straight-armed him in the face. He was thrown up and back; when she came to her feet, she began advancing on him, her fists up and ready.

It was then that he began to know the first stirrings of fear. He had thrown his worst at her, and she had not only survived it, but brushed it away. He was far stronger than he had been at the beginning of the fight, but then, so was she.

He thrust the fear down. This was no time for weakness. He was _Lung_. He did not lose, even to Endbringers.

Roaring a challenge, he leaped to the attack.

* * *

Taylor met the charge, stepped inside the swinging claw, and stopped Lung dead with a single punch under the ribcage. To be honest, she could not reach much higher, as he was over nine feet tall now. Metal flew from the point of impact; she hit him again, in the same place.

He staggered, and she went on the attack. Punch after punch she landed, each blow landing precisely where she wanted it. And with each blow, more of his scales flaked off.

He tried to counter-attack, but she slipped his blows aside, or simply took them, whichever seemed most convenient. And then, when he was staggering, on the ropes, she went for it. Punch after punch slammed into him, metal flying off like shrapnel.

And then she crouched slightly, and jumped. Her fist came up as she did; it struck Lung's jaw in a perfect uppercut.

Lung went over backward like a toppling tree; Taylor landed a moment later, with a sound like thunder. She eyed her opponent dispassionately, breathing heavily. Moments later, he began to shrink, to cast off the metallic parts.

* * *

Cautiously, Armsmaster approached her as she watched Lung slowly revert to human. She turned to look at him; her long coat was tattered, her clothing scorched here and there, but she still looked remarkably unscathed for someone who had been through a fight of that intensity.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded. _"I'll be fine," _she told him. _"You can take care of Lung?"_

"Yeah," he assented. "Listen, about what you've done today -"

_"Shadow Stalker," _she interrupted. _"Is she all right?"_

"She took a couple of hits," he told her. "She'll be fine."

_"Good," _she replied. _"If she asks about me, tell her I had something to do."_

"But -" he began, then stopped. She had leaped to the top of a nearby building, leaving him talking to empty air. A moment later, she was gone altogether.

"Goddamn enigmatic rogue capes," he muttered, but his heart wasn't in it. Carefully, he knelt and began securing Lung.

* * *

End of Part Twelve


	13. Chapter 13

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** Topic: Lung Takedown**

**In: Boards ► Cape Doings ► Cape Battles**

**CapeFan** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on October 10, 2009:

Okay, so you guys all know about the scuffle between the ABB and the Empire. It's on the news. But holy shit, have you seen the filmclip where Lung gets punched out by a teenage girl?

**(Showing Page 1 of 4)**

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

No, no I have not. Links?

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

A teenage girl. Right. Sure. Unless it's Glory Girl, I'm gonna have to say 'pics or it didn't happen'.

**GloryGirl** (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Wasn't me. In fact, first I've heard of it. Someone took Lung down?

**CapeFan** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Sure as hell. I found this online. Check it.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Jesus Mary mother of God. Holy shit. This is real?

**XxVoid_CowboyxX**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Can't be. No way.

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Wow, Shadow Stalker's kind of badass there, but HOLY SHIT. 3:21. Just ... 3:21. Did that happen? Holy shit.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

She ripped his fucking wing off. That's seriously hardcore.

**XxVoid_CowboyxX**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Uh, no, sorry, looks fake to me.

**KingCobra** (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Really? Fake?

If it's a hoax, it's a really good one.

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4**

**(Showing Page 2 of 4)**

**XxVoid_CowboyxX**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Several tells. This mystery cape in the goggles and long coat doesn't fall at the right speed. I think she's CGI. And you see at 3:51, where she's supposed to be punching him? All those little glitters you see? That's artifacts left over from an edit process. Something's being covered up.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Well, damn. And it looks so good too.

**CapeFan** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Just one second. "Fake" my ass. I've been snooping around, and every authority I can reach says that's one hundred percent pure raw footage. No editing. The cape, her name's Breaker. She does funny things to physics around herself. And those glittery bits? If you enhance it enough, that's bits of Lung's armor she's punching off of him.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Punching. Lung's. Armor. Off. Him.

Fuck ME.

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

I'm just gonna say it again. 3:21. Where she rips his goddamn wing off.

**DollarBill** (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Is that hot or is that hot? I want to have her babies.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Dude, chill. She's like sixteen.

**DollarBill** (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Whoops, shit. Sorry.

But MAN is she hardcore. And when she just walks up to him, lets him breathe fire ...

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

"Is it a little warm today, or is it me?"

**CapeFan** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Hahahaha.

Seriously, is she in a team already? Because if she isn't, they'll be knocking down her door with signing bonuses.

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4**

**(Showing Page 3 of 4)**

**GloryGirl** (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Not in New Wave. Breaker, is it? I heard something awhile ago about her taking down Hookwolf, but that was just rumor.

I don't think she's a Ward.

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

You know what's funny? She fights Lung for several minutes. When she first hits him, she staggers him. But only that. Later on, when she's hitting him, she's still staggering him. But he's much tougher now. Was she just toying with him?

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

I think you're right. And I think that Lung's needed this kind of beatdown for some time.

**CapeFan** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Lung says: "Breaker OP. Pls nerf."

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Hahahaha.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Heh heh heh

**DollarBill** (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

HAHAHAHA

**GloryGirl** (Verified Cape) (Cape Daughter) (New Wave)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Oh, that's funny.

**XxVoid_CowboyxX**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

I'm still not convinced it's not a fake.

**Armsmaster** (Verified Cape) (Protectorate ENE) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

The footage is genuine. The Protectorate and Wards were working to deal with a battle consisting of ABB and E88 capes, and Breaker stepped in to subdue Lung. Her assistance was greatly appreciated.

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4**

**(Showing Page 4 of 4)**

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

... well.

Holy shit. So it was all real.

So what about 3:36?

**Jasper**

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Where he breathes fire all over her, and she basically pushes him off of her, then comes in for the kill?

**CapeFan** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

Yeah, that's just ... I'll say it now, folks. Breaker. You heard it here first. Tell your friends.

Do not mess with Breaker.

**Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on October 10, 2009:

A-fucking-men.

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4**


	14. Chapter 14

**Shadow Stalker: Advent of a Hero**

* * *

Part Thirteen: Endgame

* * *

Triumph shut down the screen with the PHO boards on it, and pushed back his chair from the monitor screen. Turning, he looked around at the assembled Wards. They were all present, if somewhat bruised and battered; he himself sported bandages over the back of his head.

"So that's what happened after I got knocked out," he observed.

Aegis, currently hovering a few inches off the floor, due to his legs being inoperative, nodded sheepishly. "Sorry, boss," he muttered. "After you went down, we kinda got creamed."

Triumph shook his head. "Far from it. You hung in there long enough for help to arrive."

He looked around the group of Wards until he saw Shadow Stalker; she was leaning on Vista for support. "And talking about help; Sophia, we all owe you a debt of gratitude. You took out Othala, Rune, Victor and Tsunami by yourself."

Sophia shrugged awkwardly with her left shoulder; her right arm was a mass of bandages, the arm itself supported by a sling. "Thank Kid Win for some of that," she pointed out. "He's the one who developed the taser arrow. Without them, I would've had a lot of trouble against Tsunami and Victor."

Kid Win raised both hands; his armour looked rather battered and beaten about. "Hey, I just made 'em. You came out of nowhere and used 'em like a boss."

"Yeah," Clockblocker agreed; his costume's body armour was cracked and broken, and the clocks that usually roamed over its surface were motionless or absent. "That was badass."

"Regardless of which," commented Triumph, "I thought you had taken a day off. How did you even know to get there in time?"

Vista raised her free hand. "I, uh, called her."

Triumph looked over at her. _"You _called her?"

Vista nodded and looked away. "I thought she should know."

Triumph stood up, moving stiffly. "Well," he declared, "you did that against orders." Then his face split in a broad grin, and he slapped her on the shoulder. "And it was the best thing you could have done."

Apprehension fading to surprise, Vista looked up at him. "It was?"

He nodded. "It was. You did the right thing." He looked at Shadow Stalker. "And you've shown yourself to be a true member of the team, after what you did for Vista. You saved her life."

Shadow Stalker ducked her head. "If I hadn't been so hard to hit, he wouldn't have gone after her." She looked back up at him. "I was just lucky Breaker showed up."

"Yeah, well," Clockblocker noted. _"That_ was badass. She beat the hell out of Lung."

The buzzer sounded, and everyone instinctively checked to ensure they were masked up. Triumph, whose lion's-head helmet would not fit over the bandage on his head, picked up a domino mask from the desk and put it on.

The door opened, and Armsmaster stepped through, escorting a familiar figure. The white robes, marked front and back with a distinctive red cross, identified her as the teenage healer known as Panacea. Accompanying Panacea was her sister, the white-clad Alexandria package who called herself Glory Girl.

* * *

Everyone knew their real identities, of course; it was part of what made New Wave so unique. Amy and Victoria Dallon were just two members of the younger generation of the superteam which had unmasked themselves to the world almost a decade ago. Unfortunately, the 'new wave' of superhero openness and accountability had faltered when Fleur had been killed in a home invasion after she unmasked, and her boyfriend Lightstar had quit the team altogether. New Wave had moved on, but no-one else had taken up the unmasking fad.

* * *

Glory Girl immediately zeroed in on Gallant, clucking solicitously over his injuries. Panacea kept pace with Armsmaster, whose armour still showed the scars and dents of the battle with Lung, as he approached Triumph.

"Hello, sir," Triumph addressed him. "It's good to see you."

Armsmaster nodded. "I've brought Panacea to tend to your wounded," he stated, as if it were not totally obvious. "Who's the worst off?"

Triumph looked at Aegis, who shook his head, despite a majority of his body being covered in bandages. "Help Shadow Stalker first," the younger hero told his team leader. "She's earned it."

Armsmaster nodded. "I agree." He gestured, and Panacea stepped forward.

Carefully, the healer took over supporting Shadow Stalker, and assisted her in walking toward her sleeping alcove.

* * *

As she helped Shadow Stalker stumble along, Panacea murmured, "I saw the video of the fight. You were very brave."

"Yeah, well," muttered Shadow Stalker. "That's what you do when your friends' lives are on the line." She grunted with pain. "Sorry if I'm coming across as rude. I think I might have some broken ribs."

"That's fine," Panacea soothed her. "Pain makes people do funny things."

Sophia nodded. "I suppose you don't tend to see many people when they're not hurt."

Closing the door and helping Sophia sit down on the bed, Panacea didn't comment. She helped Shadow Stalker unzip her costume until the ugly bruise on her stomach was exposed, purple against her dark skin. Laying her hand on it, Panacea exerted her power.

* * *

Sophia felt the pain just drain away; the bruising, the fractured bones, the cuts. All were healed in just a few seconds.

"Wow," she murmured, lifting her arm out of the sling and flexing it. "That's amazing." She turned to Panacea. "Listen, would you like to just hang out, talk about stuff, vent, or whatever, sometime?"

Panacea blinked. "What, some kind of team-up?"

Sophia shook her head. "No, just hanging out as friends." She essayed a teasing tone. "Unless you've got all the friends that you need, of course."

"I ..." Panacea hesitated. "I think I'd like that."

"Excellent," Sophia declared. Pushing back her hood, she pulled her mask off and proffered her hand. "I'm Sophia, by the way. Sophia Hess."

Panacea smiled as she shook it. "Amy Dallon. But you knew that."

Sophia grinned at her. "Yeah, but it's nice to meet you anyway."

She heard the warning buzzer go off, and she instinctively put her mask back on. "We'll go out for food sometime," she told Amy as she shucked off the sling and began to unwind the bandages; under them, she was missing the right sleeve of her top, where the paramedics had cut it away to get at her injuries. "Talk girl talk and solve the problems of the world."

Amy nodded, her smile wider. "That sounds like fun."

* * *

They exited the alcove; Panacea went toward the group, while Sophia headed over toward the monitor console. She was just pulling out the chair to sit down, when someone brushed back the hair from her neck and planted a kiss there.

She came around fast, hands already curling into fists, but her defensive posture fell apart when she saw who it was.

"... Breaker?" she faltered.

Taylor, standing before her, complete with tattered coat and scorched clothing, nodded cheerfully. "That's me," she confirmed.

"But ... but ... you _left_. Armsmaster said you had something to do." Sophia could hear the plaintive note in her voice, didn't care. She could see, in her peripheral vision, every other person in the room watching the pair of them, but she didn't care about that either.

Taylor grinned at her. "Sure I did. I came straight here, and signed up for the Wards."

There was a roaring in Sophia's ears. "You ... joined the Wards?"

"Well, _yes_." Taylor's voice was patient. "What else was I supposed to do, with my girlfriend a hero and all?"

And while Sophia stood there dumbfounded, Taylor gently plucked off her mask, took her in her arms, and kissed her.

* * *

It was a _good_ kiss, one that started sweet and soft, then became firm and demanding. Sophia kissed her back, just as fervently, her arms curling around Taylor, holding her close. Their lips parted, their tongues ventured through and meshed together sensuously. The kiss went on forever; it was over in an instant.

When they finally parted, Sophia became aware of general applause and whistling from the assembled Wards. "Oh," she breathed. "Wow."

Taylor smiled. "Oh yeah," she replied. "Wow. Also, yes."

"Yes?" repeated Sophia, puzzled but not caring. She was in Taylor's arms. All was right with the world.

"Yes," Taylor told her again. "Whatever you wanted to ask. Whatever you wanted to do. Just 'yes'."

And then she scooped up Sophia in her arms; Sophia could tell that she wasn't even using any amp to do it. They kissed again, soft and sweet and loving. The applause broke out again, and Sophia hid her face in Taylor's shoulder; she wasn't sure if she was laughing or crying, but she wanted it to go on forever.

"Way to go, Sophia," she heard Vista calling out. "Way to go."

"What say we get out of here?" Taylor murmured.

Sophia smiled and nuzzled into her, wrapping her arms around Taylor's neck. "Sounds like a great idea."

Taylor bore Sophia toward the door leading out of the Wards base. As Sophia reclaimed her mask, she heard Triumph calling from behind them, "Where are you going? Where are you taking her?"

"Up to the roof," Taylor replied.

Sophia giggled; she put her mask on and pushed the button to open the door, then leaned back and added, "Up where we belong."

The door opened, and Taylor stepped through; the last thing Sophia saw before it slid shut was Triumph's confused expression.

* * *

The End

* * *

_[Author's Note 1: If any readers are wondering why the story ends here, it's simple. The story was always intended to be about Shadow Stalker changing and growing, becoming a good person, becoming a hero. Breaker and Shadow Stalker will go on, but this story isn't about that. It's about their beginning._

_Author's Note 2: Yes, the chapter does have several references to the ending of a well-known movie. This is deliberate.]_


End file.
